CHAPTER 111: DRUNKEN DILEMMA

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Flashback End.....

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Alpheus glanced at Rome, who had finally slumped into sleep after drinking heavily. His body had given in to the weight of alcohol, yet the tension on his face remained, as if even in sleep he could not escape the feelings of the past.

It had been an hour since Rome had poured everything out, telling him what truly happened in his relationship with Sylvia, about how their whirlwind romance had burned so brightly only to end just as quickly.

For the whole time, Alpheus had believed it was Rome who had betrayed Sylvia first. But after hearing Rome’s version, that it was Sylvia who had broken their love, his certainty wavered.

Guilt gnawed at him for being so quick to assume it had been Rome’s fault that Sylvia left him.

At first, he assumed Sylvia had left because Rome had agreed to marry his cousin. But the bitterness in the way Rome spoke about their past suggested that their separation run much deeper.

Alpheus couldn’t bring himself to judge Sylvia solely based on Rome’s story. He knew there must have been other reasons—reasons Rome perhaps never knew. Around that time, Sylvia had already been carrying the twins.

Maybe that alone had pushed her to walk away. Or maybe there were other, deeper reasons that forced her into making that painful choice.

Throughout Rome’s drunken confession, Alpheus could still feel the rawness of the wound in his chest.

The heartbreak was still alive inside him. Even with all his pride and obsession, it was clear, Rome had loved Sylvia deeply, and losing her had broken something within him that could never fully mend.

Alpheus let out a deep breath, lifting the bottle of whiskey and finishing the last burning swallow.

Silently, he reached into his pocket and pulled out what he had promised Rome—a lock of Paris’s hair. He held it in his palm for a long moment.

He hoped that, by giving this to Rome, maybe something good could finally come of all this. That Rome and Sylvia would face each other again—not to fight, not to reopen old wounds, but to finally find closure. To speak aloud the truths they had buried, to finally understand what had truly gone wrong between them.

And maybe, just maybe, that would be the start of setting them both free from the chains of their past.

Alpheus was about to step outside for a moment to call Rome’s secretary and arrange to get him back to his condo when he froze. Rome had suddenly grabbed his hand, causing him to stop.

"S-Sylvia... don’t leave me... I’ll be good. I’ll listen to you... I don’t care if you love someone else... please, come back to me..." Rome muttered weakly, his voice trembling as he squeezed his hand tightly.

Alpheus scratched his head in exasperation. Rome’s grip only tightened instead of loosening.

"D-Don’t... just don’t..." Rome muttered.

He glanced toward the table beside them when a soft giggle from a group of women caught his attention.

A tipsy woman sitting just a few meters away was staring at them with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

"Don’t laugh. He’s my friend, he’s just heartbroken."

The woman smirked flirtatiously. "What are you saying? I-I’m not laughing... I’m just smiling because I see two handsome men holding hands, hehe." She took a sip of her drink and smiled at him flirtatiously.

"Your friend looks like he needs company. He’s broken-hearted, right? Maybe he needs someone to comfort him tonight." said another woman from the same table.

Damn it.

Rome wasn’t safe to leave alone in the bar. Not only was the woman beside their table watching, but other women at nearby tables were also staring—especially at Rome.

He had no choice. He had to carry Rome. But damn... Rome was heavy. With a grunt, Alpheus lifted him again and gently slumped him back into the seat.

He tried calling Rome’s secretary, but there was no answer.

What the heck? Why couldn’t he reach him at this hour? Who else could he call for help?

He tried their other friends, but none answered either.

Alpheus sank onto the sofa, feeling the dizziness creeping in from exhaustion and the alcohol in his system. His hand stopped on the phone when his eyes landed on Sylvia’s number.

A silly thought stopped him. Why wait any longer for her and Rome to meet when the opportunity was right now?

He dialed her number, and after a few rings, her voice came through.

"Hello? Who’s this?"

It seemed Sylvia hadn’t saved his number.

"Ehem... Sylvia, this is Alpheus. I have a favor to ask—"

Tut... tut...

The call was cut off before he could even finish.

"What the...?"

He really wanted the two of them to talk, and part of him couldn’t wait any longer for them to have closure in their broken past.

Another thought crossed his mind.

Whatever happens, happens.

He lifted Rome again, nearly straining under his weight. His vision blurred from the effort, but he forced himself to carry Rome out of the bar and carefully place him in the car.

He dialed Rome’s secretary again. After a few rings, the call was answered.

"I’m sorry, Mr. Alpheus, for not answering sooner. Did something happen to—Rome? I’ll head there immediately. Please tell me your location—"

"Wait, Regan, chill," Alpheus interrupted. "Rome is safe with me. I just called to inform you that he’s drunk, and I’ll drive him back to his condo myself."

"He’s drunk? Then let me drive for you both—"

"No need. He’s safe with me, and I’m not drunk. I can handle it. What I want you to do is just take the day off tomorrow—Rome’s too drunk to make it to work anyway. That’s all. Thank you."

He didn’t wait for Regan to respond before hanging up.

Alpheus started driving toward Sylvia’s house, even whistling absentmindedly to keep his nerves steady.

He knew that by morning, Rome would be furious at him for leaving him in front of her house. But he didn’t care about Rome’s anger. His only goal was to give Rome the closure he deserved with Sylvia.

He would clear the path for the two of them.

Whatever happened after that, Rome would have to handle it himself. If Sylvia got angry at him for leaving Rome there early in the morning, that would be on him to deal with later.

The most important thing was for Rome to face her himself if he truly wanted her and the children to accept him in their lives.

Alpheus parked the car a few meters away from Sylvia’s house, his heart pounding in his chest.

He glanced at Rome slumped in the passenger seat, still completely unconscious.

He shook his head. This is insane... but it’s now or never.

He carefully lifted Rome and carried him through the narrow alleyway that led to Sylvia’s front door.

Midnight had settled over the neighborhood, and the streets were quiet, with only the shadow of him carrying Rome moving across the surroundings.

He set Rome down gently near the door and draped his own jacket over him to keep him warm against the chill of the night.

The tipsiness he had felt moments ago had vanished entirely and was replaced by the steady thrum of nervousness in his chest.

He knew both Rome and Sylvia would be furious with him for what he was about to do.

Rome mumbled something weakly, but Alpheus didn’t pay attention.

He took a deep breath and knocked on the door gently. His mind raced.

What if Sylvia opens it and screams?

He needed to stay calm, to give Rome the chance to face her, no matter what happened.

However, after several knocks, there was still no response. Alpheus furrowed his brow and scratched his head.

It seemed Sylvia was already asleep. He didn’t bother knocking again. He knew the twins would wake if he made too much noise.

After he ensured Rome was safely resting near the door, Alpheus started walking away.

He sighed. He didn’t want to leave his friend like that, but it was the only way to make Rome realize that if he still loved Sylvia, he would have to do everything in his power to earn her back—even if that meant waiting outside her door until morning.

He wasn’t sure if he had been harsh on his friend, but he simply shrugged to himself.

There was nothing more to do tonight. He would just watch and wait to see what tomorrow would bring.

With that, he walked away from Sylvia’s house and got back into his car.

*********

Morning came...

"Mommy, is he dead?"

Egypt asked, poking Rome’s cheek with her tiny finger as he lay sprawled at the door of their house.

"He’s not dead," Paris said, pinching her nose. "He smells like alcohol... maybe he sleepwalked last night."

"Mommy, what are we going to do with him? He doesn’t seem like he’s waking up anytime soon." Egypt said, still poking Rome’s cheek.

Sylvia clenched her fists tightly, trying to control her fury.

At the very last thing she wanted to see that early morning was Rome lying comfortably, sprawled across her front door.

Why would this jerk come to her house? And worse, he looked like he had been heavily drunk.

No matter how much Egypt poked his cheek, he didn’t stir at all.