Chapter 7: Drunken Mess

Minutes turned into hours.

At some point, exhaustion had won, and Lara had dozed off on the couch. But the sharp ringing of the doorbell stirred her awake.

Her heart leaped into her throat as she shot up, blinking away the drowsiness. The room was dark, save for the dim glow of the TV screen.

She glanced at the clock. 2:13 AM.

Who could be visiting this late?

With a deep sigh, she pushed herself off the couch and made her way to the door. The doorbell rang again, more insistent this time. Her brows knitted together she hesitated for a moment. Peeking through the peephole, she was met with a familiar face.

Izek?

Without wasting another second, she unlocked the door and swung it open. Her eyes widened at the sight before her.

There, standing under the dim glow of the porch light, was Izek—one of Lucas’s close friends. And beside him, slumped against his shoulder, was Lucas himself. Disheveled. Drunk. Completely wasted.

Lara’s stomach twisted at the sight.

“Hey,” Izek greeted, offering an awkward smile. “Care to help?”

Lara’s gaze dropped to Lucas, and her heart clenched. His normally crisp shirt was wrinkled, the top buttons undone. His usually sharp eyes were half-lidded, unfocused. His face was flushed from alcohol.

“What happened? Why is he like this?” she asked, stepping forward to help support Lucas’s weight as they guided him inside.

Izek exhaled sharply. “I don't think it's my story to tell. I’m sorry, Nics.” he said grimly, his expression dark.

That didn’t sit well with her.

As they settled Lucas onto the couch, she stole a glance at Izek and noticed the tension in his jaw. His hands clenched into fists at his sides, and Lara didn’t miss the frustration simmering in his eyes as he glared at Lucas.

“He’s my friend, but right now, I really want to beat the shit out of him,” Izek muttered under his breath. “What an asshole.”

Lara’s brows furrowed. “What happened?” she pressed, her voice laced with both confusion and concern.

Izek exhaled sharply and shook his head. “Forget it.” he ran a hand through his hair, his anger momentarily giving way to something softer when he met her gaze. “You're too good for him, you know that?”

Lara’s blinked, taken aback.

“What?”

“Never mind,” he muttered with a sigh. “Anyway, I should go. You don’t need to take care of him—just leave him be. He deserves it.”

Lara opened her mouth to respond, but Izek had already patted her shoulder lightly. “You don’t have to see me off. Just lock the door.”

And with that, he walked out, leaving her alone with the drunken mess that was her husband.

Lara’s gaze slowly dropped to Lucas, sprawled out on the couch, his chest rising and falling with slow, uneven breaths.

A whirlwind of emotions crashed through her—anger, worry, disappointment.

She clenched her fists.

What the hell happened tonight?

He had been out drinking while she sat here, waiting, worrying.

And for what?

Her chest tightened painfully. She wanted to shake him awake, demand an explanation, yell at him for making her feel like this.

But even if she asked, would he answer?

Would he even care?

She let out a bitter laugh, tilting her head back as frustration bubbled within her.

Of course not.

Lucas had never cared before. Why would he start now?

With a heavy sigh, she turned away, intending to leave him there for the night. She refused to stay here, hovering over him like a fool. But just as she took a step away—

A hand shot out, weakly wrapping around her wrist.