Three Years Later, He Came Back Begging novel Chapter 272

Ever since returning from Hvitland, Lawrence had been gravely ill. He'd been in and out of the hospital, barely clinging on. Only his previously excellent physical health kept him from collapsing entirely.

By the time Quentin came over for their therapy session, Lawrence was mostly recovered physically, but he still looked pale and gaunt. He sat slumped in a chair, his bangs hanging low to obscure his eyes.

His oldest friend used to be full of boundless energy, always the first to jump into any extreme sport, never showing an ounce of fatigue. Now, he looked like a lifeless wooden carving.

Getting close to him felt like approaching a ghost.

Quentin stifled a heavy sigh and sat across from him. He had been working as Lawrence's therapist, but days ago, Lawrence had vanished without a word to Frostheim. They hadn't been able to reach him until Abbot confessed that Lawrence had chased after Bonnie.

Lawrence's obsession with Bonnie ran unimaginably deep.

"Have you been taking your medication on schedule?" Quentin asked gently.

Lawrence showed a flicker of life, shifting slightly to sit up straighter. He looked terrible, but there was a strange glimmer in his eyes that caught Quentin off guard.

"I haven't missed a dose. You don't need to worry."

Quentin offered a soft smile. "You actually seem a bit more present. Did your trip give you some clarity? Want to talk about it? It might help lighten the load."

Lawrence's lips twitched into a stiff, unnatural smile, but his eyes were brimming with pure agony. The contrast made his expression look haunting.

Quentin waited patiently.

"...Bonnie," Lawrence rasped, his voice dropping to a whisper. "I think Bonnie finally forgave me. But she also... she doesn't want me anymore."

A hard lump formed in Lawrence's throat. He turned his head to stare blankly out the window, sounding utterly lost. "She doesn't want the twenty-year-old me anymore. Quentin... do you even remember who the twenty-year-old me was?"

Quentin paused. The phrasing was alarming. He wasn't asking what he was like at twenty; he was asking who he was.

He never paid attention to things like that.

In the center of the frame stood him and Bonnie. Her eyes were crescent moons as she smiled brilliantly, her head resting against his shoulder. Lawrence had his arm wrapped tightly around her, beaming at the camera.

Their friends surrounded them, a picture of carefree youth untouched by tragedy.

It reminded him of their long conversation under the aurora. They had been so innocent back then. Innocent enough to believe the world held no real suffering.

They thought their love was invincible, that it could conquer anything.

They thought they would always be that happy—going on dates, traveling, inviting friends over for drinks and video games.

They believed life would just naturally flow into graduation, careers, a proposal, a wedding, and eventually a baby who looked just like Bonnie. He was going to learn how to be a devoted husband and an incredible father.