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CHAPTER | TWENTY-NINE

One month later…

Drakon twirled his fork in his spaghetti, hardly paying attention to what I was saying when I reached out and touched his hand. He withdrew sharply, snapping out of his thoughts with a jump.

“I’m sorry. Wh-What were you saying, mom?” Drakon asked, sitting up his seat.

I frowned and pulled my hand back to my side. “I was asking how it went with the therapist.”

It wasn’t unusual for Drakon to zone out. Since Tristian and I rescued him, he has been zoning out a lot lately. One minute, he would be talking then be completely quiet as he looked off in the distant.

It was one of the reasons that his doctor and I agreed that therapy would help him mentally and emotionally.

He also didn’t want to eat or sleep. Whenever he slept, he woke up crying and screaming, kicking and punching the bed as he scrambled to get out. He would run to the bathroom and lock it, hugging his knees in the bathtub as he cried and mumbled.

When it was time to eat, he pushed his plate away or ate very little and leaned over the table, vomiting on the floor. He drank only grape juice and looked sick to his stomach when I offered him water or any other kind of juice.

At first, all these changes worried me. I didn’t sleep when he slept just in case he woke up and hurt himself. I didn’t eat around him in case I made him sick, but he stuck to my side all day and night. He refused to leave me alone for a second and even went as far as standing outside of the bathroom when mother nature called or when I showered.

But after talking with his therapist after Drakon’s first session, he told me to be patient.

“Drakon has been through a lot, Ms. Galvan. His mind is… not here. It’s still trapped back in the bar, but with your help and your husband’s, he will come back to us. Just please be patient with him.” The therapist said, pushing his glasses up on his nose.

Drakon sighed, bringing me out my thoughts as he set his fork down. “It went okay.”

I nodded, not feeling satisfied with that short response, but after I pushed him too hard one day, he cried and ran away to hide in the tub.

I stood up and grabbed our full plates and threw out the food. I started washing the dishes as Drakon sat on table, watching me with a frown.

“Is dad going to come?” He asked, voice quiet.

I turned off the faucet and shook my hands. “No, he can’t make it tonight. He promised to come Friday, though.”

Drakon coughed and reached for his glass of grape juice. I cleared my throat and dried the dishes, putting them away before I led the way to his bedroom. Drakon followed, carrying his grape juice with both hands as we walked in.

Tom perked his head up as Drakon sat on the bed, disturbing Tom out of his nap. He stood up, arching his back before bumping his head on Drakon’s arm.

Drakon faintly smiled and patted his thigh, inviting Tom to sit on his lap. Tom meowed and sat on his lap, purring as Drakon ran his hand down Tom’s back.

Aside from Drakon following me, Tom followed Drakon everywhere too. From the first night since Drakon came home, Tom and Drakon became inseparable except when either one of them wandered off to sleep.

“What story do you want me to read?” I asked, standing in front of his bookcase.

“I want to hear music instead.” Drakon said as Tom hopped off the bed and climbing on top a dresser, claiming his spot as he sat down and licked his paw.

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