Chapter 9

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My dudes. I drank a decent sized glass of rum, went to take a nap, woke up with a massive headache and now I fucking hate myself. Someone please send help🙃😂 Other than that enjoy the chapter😀

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It was four days later, and one day before Clara's scheduled surgery, and Lauren found herself alone in a bar she'd passed on her way home from work, having quickly pulled over and decided to have a drink. It wasn't a particularly nice bar, being on the outer limits of the city, but it was serving its purpose, and Lauren had been there for a few hours, steadily drinking herself into a tipsy buzz with glass after glass of scotch. They'd come home Sunday night, and life had carried on, with the girls back in school, and Lauren and Camila back in work too. That in itself had caused problems because Camila had tried to get Lauren to take the week off and help Clara organize everything, but Lauren couldn't stand the thought of it. At least at work, she could keep her mind occupied and try and keep a sense of normalcy, even if she left early in the morning, and didn't come home until late – something she hadn't done since she'd been stabbed all those years ago. She'd barely seen Camila or the girls in days, and had been avoiding her mom, Sofi and Maggie too, because she had prided herself on being strong and organized, but everything was falling to pieces, and she didn't want any witnesses. Every night, she came home and ate whatever Camila had plated up for her and left in the kitchen, then she'd sit in the living room, giving curt answers to any questions or comments thrown her way, and then she'd tell Camila she'd be up to bed soon, before falling asleep on the sofa. No one was fooled by her act.

She jumped at the sound of a stool being dragged out, snapping her out of her thoughts, and Lauren turned to scowl at the person, a cigarette that she'd coerced off another man, who had since left, dangling from her lips – the whole bar was practically empty, why did they have to sit right next to her? – and her scowl deepened when she saw who it was. "I didn't think this was your scene anymore," Maggie said, hoisting herself up onto the stool and reaching out for Lauren's glass, "What're you drinking? Oh god, this scotch is fucking awful. This definitely isn't your scene."

"Oh look, my favorite asshole. What do you want?" Lauren grumbled, white smoke curling out of her mouth as she spoke before she snatched back her glass and drained it. Maggie wasn't wrong – it wasn't exactly the top-shelf kind of scotch that Lauren was used to.

"Camila's worried," Maggie sighed, plucking the cigarette out of Lauren's fingers and outing it in an ashtray, "She told Sofi you haven't been coming home so I went to the office to drag you home."

"I have been going home," Lauren murmured, "Just ... later than normal. I'm busy."

Maggie let out a snort of laughter, "Cut the bullshit, no one's expecting you to be okay. I thought you were over your running away from your problems phase though. Do you know how hard it was to find you?"

"How did you find me?"

"I put an alert out on your plates. Said it was a stolen car," Maggie shrugged, "Now, come on. Time to go home."

Lauren scoffed, "Go on then, no one's stopping you. I, however, am having another drink." She slid her empty glass towards the bartender, rapping her knuckles on the old wooden bar, scarred and worn from years of use. Maggie gave him a stern look which left no room for misunderstanding – Lauren was cut off for the night.

Maggie let out a quick laugh, climbing down off her stool, "No you're not. I'm cutting you off, and driving you home. If you argue with me, I'll arrest you and put you in a cell – it's not like that's never happened before."

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