Jasmine was a sweet girl and Alois secretly tahnked her, even though he didn't want to leave his room. He wanted to lie in bed with memories of Sam, with the smell of him nearby. He knew it probably sounded weird, but it helped him. It helped him remember the man he had loved, because more than anything else, he was afraid he'd forget. He'd forget all the good stuff and just remember the night Sam died and how he had looked as his last breath left his body.

He heard Jasmine clattering some bottles as she cleared the bath in order to run the hot water. He had been selfish. He had made her worry. What would Sam say? He shook his head slightly and got to his feet, almost losing his balance as he went to his dresser. He pulled out some fresh clothes, his eyes lingering on the container that held Sam. Once a beautiful man and now a pile of ashes in a container. And memories that made him laugh, made him cry... He sniffed and almost fell out of the room, empty wine bottles rolling out into the hall with him. He had emptied the wine cellar he had built. Being French, Alois had always enjoyed a glass of wine in the evenings. It disgusted him to think about drinking so many bottles in one go. How could he have fallen so far?

He came to the bathroom and mumbled a thanks to Jasmine, not sure if she had even heard him.