Chapter71Unreturned
Upon reaching Central Square, where Madison had arranged to meet Rachel, she found Rachel waiting for them on a bench at the side of the square with two cotton candy sticks.
Quentin and Hannah spotted their godmother from a distance, let go of their mom's hand, and ran toward her, excitedly shouting, "Godmother, godmother, we are here!"
Rachel rose from her chair and immediately crouched down with open arms, her hand holding the cotton candy raised high while the other embraced the two adorable little ones rushing toward her.
"Quentin, Hannah, come here. Try this cotton candy and see if it's as delicious," Rachel said with a smile as she handed each child a stick of the sugary treat.
Holding onto Rachel's hand, each with a cotton candy, they headed toward the nearby mall.
Rachel had plans to buy new backpacks for each of them. They entered a store that specialized in children's backpacks.
Quentin chose a backpack with a race car design, while Hannah picked one featuring Princess Elsa. They were so thrilled that they wore their new backpacks before paying for them.
They went to a local amusement park with Madison and Rachel and had a blast. After a quick lunch, they played until evening. Hannah had so much fun that she didn't want to leave until it was dark and only reluctantly let Madison carry her out.
After a day of play and feeling ravenous from the activity, Hannah clamored for burgers and fries, leading the group to KFC for a family bucket meal, and even got two sundaes, especially for the kids.
By the time they finished dinner, it was already 9 PM.
Madison insisted on taking a taxi back to their villa.
When they pulled up at the villa's front gate, the house was dark, which was puzzling.
"Hasn't Matthew come back yet?" Madison wondered.
Leading the little ones out of the taxi, they entered the house and flicked on the lights, illuminating the interior.
"Mom, Dad's not back yet," Hannah observed, noticing the eerie quiet.
"Hmm, Dad might be busy with work."
"I'm going to call Dad," she said, lifting her hand to use her smartwatch to dial Matthew's number.
But there was no answer after a long wait.
"Dad didn't answer the phone," she said.
Only then did Madison remember seeing his phone left behind in the study that morning.
"Hannah, stop calling. Dad left his phone at home. Let's grab our backpacks and head upstairs to get ready for bath and bedtime," Madison interrupted Hannah's attempt to continue dialing.
"Dad must have been in such a hurry this morning to forget his phone."
Hannah, shouldering her new backpack, clomped up the stairs.
Quentin wasn't as easily fooled as his younger sister. Last night, Dad said he needed to talk to Mom about something serious, but even after a long conversation, Mom didn't return. Hannah had fallen asleep, and he had dozed off, vaguely hearing the sound of a door closing.
Could Dad not come home because he and Mom fought?
Yet, looking at Mom, it didn't seem like they'd argued. Maybe he heard wrong. Maybe Dad was just stuck working late again.
The three of them lay in bed. Quentin and Hannah, exhausted from the day's play, quickly fell asleep.
Having run around all day, Madison was tired and wanted to sleep but couldn't. Propped up in bed, she didn't hear Matthew return, only the steady breathing of the two little ones beside her. Gently, she covered them with the blanket.
So much had happened since their return to Horizon City. Quentin and Hannah had disappeared. She had asked Matthew for help to find them and, in doing so, revealed their existence to him. They ended up going back to the villa with Matthew, which diverted the course of events.
No matter the changes, her only wish was to protect her two treasures and ensure they grew up happy.
*
That night, Mitchell came home, hands laden with food.
He entered to discover Matthew was drinking again. Somehow, Matthew had found his long-cherished vintage and had polished it off. Tears welled in Mitchell's eyes, “Matthew if you wanted to drink, I could have had something from the bar. This was my collection to savor slowly in my old age, and now it's all gone in one gulp.”
Hurriedly, Mitchell set the food on the dining table and snatched the glass from his hand.
"Matthew, stop drinking. Have some food first."
Unfazed by the loss of his drink, Matthew stood up and went straight to his room, ignoring Mitchell's calls from behind.
Mitchell tidied up the empty bottles and glasses, the spilled liquor scenting the room—no choice but to roll up the soggy carpet and toss it outside. With the windows open for ventilation, it took about half an hour for the smell to dissipate.
After all this, Mitchell returned to his room for a shower, then wrapped in his bathrobe, he called Patrick.
"Patrick, I need you to come by tomorrow and take Matthew away," he looked around his room at the liquor collection. If Matthew kept drinking like this, he was bound to end up with alcohol poisoning. The loss of booze wasn't the concern—it was Matthew's health that worried him.
So, he either had to send him away or have him stay at Patrick’s, who never kept any alcohol at home.
"Why me? Where am I supposed to take him?" Patrick groaned, getting this late-night call from his older brother telling him to pick up Matthew. Why did he always draw the short straw?
"Anywhere you want. Either take him back to his place or yours. You figure it out." With that, he hung up the phone.
He was finally feeling a bit of relief. Being around a drunkard every day, he was practically getting a contact high just walking into his own house.
*
The next day, Patrick drove over to the Mitchell residence.
"Hey, where's Matthew?" Patrick looked around as he entered but didn’t see him.
Mitchell pointed toward a room with a tilt of his chin. "Over there—sleeping in the room. Go wake him up."
"You're kidding, right? Wake up, Matthew? I might as well kill myself," Patrick said, taking a step back and drawing his finger across his throat in a slashing motion.
Just then, they heard a noise and saw the bedroom door opening. Out walked Matthew, looking dazed and confused, his lips tightly pursed and his eyes fiery red. The once calm demeanor was now one of despair as if he’d lost all feeling for everything around him.
Mitchell had seen it for two days straight and had grown used to it.
Patrick was genuinely shocked by his appearance.
"Is... is that the once debonair and devastatingly handsome Matthew?" he muttered in disbelief.
Matthew went to the couch and sat down without acknowledging the other two standing at the doorway.
The men caught their breath and moved to sit on either side of him.
"Matthew, what the heck happened to make you like this? Did you fight with Madison?" Patrick couldn't help but ask.
Matthew just hung his head in silence.
"Well, I'm gonna call Madison then." Seeing Matthew’s reaction, Patrick pulled out his phone, ready to call Madison.
Mitchell figured it had to be related to Madison.
After all, if you want to solve the problem, you go to the source.
"Stop, I'm fine. Go to my house, get my cellphone, and pick up a few clothes."
Matthew finally spoke up after a prolonged silence, his gaze fixed downward.
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