•Before I Let Go•

•Chapter 13•

Gazing around the small isolated property, Cory questioned whether he would be here—in this place—in this exact moment in time if he had never left. It was an eerie thought to consider.

Cory began pacing, slowly walking from one end of the porch to the other, scrolling through his phone as he puffed his cigarette.

        Bright headlights trailed up the driveway, but Cory didn't recognize the vehicle as Alida's. His brows furrowed in confusion, wondering who would be coming to Alida's house this late at night.

Cory stepped off the porch, taking a seat on the step. He watched curiously as the car came to a stop, the backseat door flying open so hard that it had recoil, causing it to spring closed back onto the person trying to get out.

He heard Alida's voice yelling a particular profanity. He couldn't help but to chuckle at the sound, taking a drag of his cigarette as he watched her climb out of the cab.

Cory watched as she approached the house in a stagger—clumsily digging through the purse hanging from her shoulder.

"Shit." Alida swore again as her keys fell to the ground. She used her phone screen as a flashlight, slightly squatting as she searched the earth's floor.

Starting up the cobble stone trail toward the house, a pair of combat style boots caught her eye before the burning ember of his cigarette—Cory was sitting on her porch step.

Alida groaned; her head went back as if cursing the heavens. "What the hell are you doing here, Cory?"

"I told you I was gonna be here."

"I don't mean right now, I mean in general. What are you doing here—is it to fuck with me?" Alida stepped around him, nearly tripping on the step.

"Are you drunk?" He asked, even though it was clear that she was.

"So what if I am?" Alida scoffed, clearly having trouble with the lock. She finally managed to get the key into the deadbolt, twisting the knob to let herself inside.

Cory flicked his cigarette out into the yard as he quickly got to his feet. He leaned against the side of the doorway, watching Alida try her best to get into a locked house.

"Where's Zora?" Cory's question had been from a place of concern. Alida was so drunk she couldn't even get into her own house. The idea of Alida leaving Zora somewhere she had forgotten in her inebriated state worried Cory.

Alida chuckled in spite—the sound of her laugh evil. "You should really stay in your own lane."

"I don't understand what you mean."

"You wouldn't, would you? You'd run away before baring any concern or responsibility." Alida spat, finally pushing open the front door. "Zora's fine—she's with my parents. But what about you, Cory? You have any idea where your kids are?"

"I don't have any kids." Cory simply stated.

Alida rolled her eyes as she entered her home. Cory was surprised that she hadn't closed the door on him, but was thankful that she didn't.

"That you know of." Alida mumbled, but Cory had heard.

He hadn't thought about Stella Carpenter's lie since he left; the controversy surrounding him stayed where he had left it—back in Los Angeles. The allegation was so outlandish he didn't think about telling Alida because there was nothing of it to tell—except that it wasn't true.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you about it—it's not true though, if that makes it any better."

"It doesn't. It- it pisses me off, actually."