Three Years Later, He Came Back Begging novel Chapter 224

Quentin asked his assistant to pull up Lawrence’s old medical records from his time in the States. Back then, Lawrence had been drowning in guilt over Bonnie, burdened by responsibilities he never wanted, and worn down by Hannah’s constant emotional abuse. All that had started to take a toll on his mind.

At first, it seemed under control.

Quentin wrote a prescription for Lawrence, told him to take his meds like clockwork, then left the country. He kept in touch afterward, calling a few times to check in. Lawrence had always seemed fine on the phone, so Quentin figured it was all good. Looking at him now, though, Quentin realized Lawrence must have been pretending the whole time.

“Lawrence, those meds I gave you... Have you been taking them like I said?”

The question made Lawrence’s hand shake. He dropped his gaze, his fingers fidgeting on the arm of the couch as tension pulled tight across his shoulders. You could see the anxiety rolling off him—impatience, restlessness, that nervous energy everyone recognizes.

They were sitting across from each other on a couch in a borrowed office at Verto Advanced Care. Lawrence’s hand kept gripping the armrest, then letting go.

“Do you want to tell me why you stopped the medication?” Quentin asked softly. He had this calm, elegant vibe that made it so easy for people to open up. His smile was warm, never pushy. “You have to tell me so I can help.”

Lawrence took a few uneven breaths, like he was forcing himself not to panic. His face turned red, eyes shot through with red lines from lack of sleep or too much stress. After a long pause, he finally spoke, his voice hardly above a whisper.

“I’m scared to take them...”

At first, he’d done exactly as Quentin told him. He took the antidepressants, the anti-anxiety meds. Honestly, they worked. The agitation faded, he could sleep, he could almost live a normal life. Even when Hannah was tearing him down, he didn’t feel that deep disgust or hatred anymore. He could fake it. He could tell himself it was just a role he had to play for a while, and as long as he hung in there, it would pass.

That night, he locked himself in his office, obsessively replaying every moment with Bonnie, trying to memorize every detail.

Luckily, nothing slipped away that night. He remembered everything.

He tried to brush it off as a fluke, so he kept taking the pills, kept fighting off the anxiety. But then it happened again. He forgot something else—not Bonnie’s appearance but a tiny detail from their time together. No matter how hard he tried, he just couldn’t recall it. He drove himself crazy, searching every corner of his mind, and still came up empty.

Fear took over. He started to research, reading everything he could about psychiatric meds. That’s when he saw it—if you stay emotionally numb for too long, if your brain gets stuck in slow motion, things start to slip. Little details, memories, they get lost, buried deep and out of reach.

But those small things weren't trivial to Lawrence. Every memory he shared with Bonnie, every day from that year together, was the only thing that kept him going. That was the medicine he really needed.