Three Years Later, He Came Back Begging novel Chapter 48

Lawrence sat for a long time, letting the ache in his chest slowly fade until he could finally breathe again. He got up, crossed to the TV stand, and bent down to pick up a little clay dog resting on top.

When he’d left for abroad, everything had happened so fast. He hadn’t touched a thing in the apartment. The housekeeper still came by to keep the place spotless, so on the surface, nothing looked different from the past.

Except for one thing. Everything that belonged to Bonnie, all their memories together, was missing.

Bonnie must have come back here on her own. She’d packed up everything that was hers, tossed out some things, kept a few, and eventually sealed it all into cardboard boxes, setting them by the trash outside.

He’d been lucky enough to find those boxes before someone else did.

Later, Lawrence carried one of the boxes back to The Observatory. As stubborn as ever, he set everything back where it used to be.

This little clay dog had always sat here, next to a picture frame. Inside was a photo from when he and Bonnie hiked a mountain together, both wearing matching outdoor jackets.

Lawrence ran his thumb softly over the small dog. Most of the paint had flaked away, but it was still a goofy little thing, full of charm.

They’d made it together, just for fun. It was special only because it was their first try.

He was born in the year of the dog, and Bonnie had named the clay dog May. At the time, it was May, and Bonnie’s architecture class had gone to Verdania for a field sketch trip. He'd tagged along in secret to surprise her.

Bonnie had worn a tie-dye dress that day, sitting by the river with her sketchbook, capturing the shape of those classic old buildings. He’d taken pictures of her while she drew.

Afterward, they’d spent the rest of the day wandering, climbing the mountain, strolling through the old town, trying their hand at crafts.

He only got to join Bonnie for one of those trips, even though the architecture students had fieldwork every year. That’s just how things went.

Lawrence idly picked at a patch of faded paint on May’s head. He was just about to put it back when he heard the doorbell ring.

Last night, Abbot had arranged a driver to bring him back to The Observatory, and left a message, promising to come by this morning to drop off some clothes. Lawrence hadn’t thought much about it and walked to the door, still holding the clay dog in his hand.

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