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Adam's body is still in that bathroom.
Lawrence knows this. In fact, it haunts him every day, from the second he wakes up to the second he falls asleep. Some nights it even haunts him in his dreams. Some nights he's back in that bathroom and he's staring right at Adam, who's slowly losing every living part of him. Who's rotting right in front of Lawrence's eyes, as a pained scream comes out of Adam's mouth. The only part of him that ever still looks alive is his eyes, which stare at Lawrence with a mix of anger and sadness.
You betrayed me. They seem to say.
You promised.
And then Lawrence wakes up, his breathing so uneven for a moment he feels like he's dying.
Lawrence usually can't fall asleep again for hours after that. His thoughts can't seem to get away from Adam and the fact that he's still there. Adam is still in that bathroom.
The cops never found where that bathroom was. Lawrence thinks they just don't care enough to really look for it. And he knows no one else has ever taken Adam's corpse out of there. They don't care about Adam that way. They don't see him in every dark corner and their lives haven't been changed forever because of him.
Lawrence now lives alone, having divorced Alison about a year after escaping. They tried to make it work, but it was impossible for the both of them. Physically Lawrence escaped, but mentally he's still chained to that pipe.
He still has his job, but it's not the same as before. People no longer look at Lawrence the same as before. Or maybe Lawrence is the one who no longer looks at them the same.
His job, however, is the only thing still left that occasionally provides him with some sort of relief. In an emergency, Lawrence's thoughts focus solely on the situation in front of him. In those few moments, Adam is no longer haunting him.
At least not until Lawrence's shift ends.
He often thinks about getting Adam out of that bathroom. In fact, Lawrence plans doing so almost every week. Sometimes he wakes up from another nightmare and impulsively decides to get Adam out right then. The furthest Lawrence has ever gotten, though, is getting to his car.
Other times he plans it out in more detail. Plans the exact day he'll have a day off work and what tools he'll need to get. He plans for every scenario he can think of. Where to bury Adam. What to do in case he gets noticed.
He's had it all planned out. And yet Lawrence never makes any of it come true. The furthest he ever got was purchasing a shovel. It now sits hidden in his closet, collecting dust. He doesn't remember anymore how long ago he got it. Has it been days? Months? Even years?
Still, Lawrence thinks about Adam decaying in that bathroom every day of his life. He's convinced himself he'll return one day and give Adam a proper funeral.
Deep down Lawrence knows he's lying to himself. If Alison was here, she'd have called him out on it ages ago.
He wants to get Adam out, but he can't get himself to return. By this point the only thing left of Adam would be merely a skeleton, but still Lawrence thinks about those eyes from his dreams. Ones that would then be staring right at him in person, screaming at him.
You promised, Lawrence. They would say. You promised you'd return. You promised you would help.
They would be filled with betrayal, judging every move Lawrence would make. They would continue staring at him as he'd dig a grave and then he'd have to look at them as they slowly get covered over by dirt. That pain in them never actually disappearing, only being covered up so that Lawrence doesn't have to see them anymore.
He can't bear the thought of facing them. Not even for a moment. So instead Lawrence thinks about getting Adam out. Thinks about it every day, plans it as often as he can. But he knows he won't return.
He knows he can't.