Chapter Twenty Four

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Garroth's POV

I open the apartment door to the immediate scent of alcohol and the sound of a bottle falling onto the floor. Before I even have one foot in the door, I know what has happened and why it's happening.

It's that damn nightmare. The one he won't talk to me about. The one that keeps him up every single night. The one that scares him to death.

The memory he'll do anything to forget.

Laurance is sitting on a bar stool at the counter when I walk in, a bottle of liquor gripped in his left hand. I drop my bags of groceries on the center island which catches his attention and breaks him out of his dazed state.

"Welcome home," he mumbles with partially closed eyelids. I pinch the bridge of my nose and sigh.

"Why did I think it was a good idea to leave you home alone?" I mutter to myself, storing away the refrigerated food.

"Because you trust me," he answers and I roll my eyes.

"Yeah, and look how well that worked out." I shut the fridge and walk over towards him.

"I'm not that drunk. I only had, like, two bottles."

I look down at the three dropped on the floor and the half-empty one in his hand.

"Sure, Laurance. Just two. Irene, I forgot how lightweight you are."

Laurance has only been drunk one other time in his life that I know about. We went to a party in high school for all graduating seniors and there was alcohol. I didn't drink, of course, but Laurance had one or two drinks and he was down for the count.

I had to let him stay the night so his parents wouldn't know.

Laurance just shrugs and begins to lift the fourth bottle to his lips.

"No." I grab the neck of the bottle and steer it away from his face. "No more alcohol for you."

"Oh, come on," he whines. "One more? Pretty please?"

"Not happening."

He tightens his grip.

"You aren't in charge of me."

"Maybe I should be since you can't seem to act rationally."

"I can do what I want! I'm an adult!"

"Laurance, let go!"

He blinks in surprise, eyes wide, and lets go of the bottle. I crouch down and collect the others on the floor, tossing them all into the trash.

"Where'd you hide the rest?" I question and he points to a cupboard above the fridge. I throw all those out, too.

"Are you mad at me, gar gar?" he asks as I turn back to him. His pitiful expression just makes me want to apologize and hug him until all the pain is gone.

"No." I tell him. "I just wish you'd called me."

He frowns: "I was scared you'd be mad at me..."

"For what?"

He shrugs, gaze turned towards the floor. I sigh softly and approach him again, gesturing for him to get off the stool. He does.

"In a few hours, you are not going to remember any of this, but I'm gonna say it anyway." I grab him by the shoulders.

"I don't care what issues you may be going through; I will be there to support you no matter what. Whatever it is, I'll be by your side until it's all over."

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