Page 29 of Addicted

“That’s still too high!”

“You would’ve probably just broken your leg.”

“I could’ve fallen headfirst!”

“Not the way you were dangling and screaming.”

“I wasn’t screaming,” Owen narrowed his eyebrows in mock seriousness. “I wasyelling.”

“Is there a difference?”

“Yes.”

“Whatever you were doing, you were doing it loudly. That’s why my parents called the fire department.” Liam was bantering like he was his old self and it gave Owen a flicker of hope. He was still in there somewhere; it was only a matter of drawing him out.

“Well, you were worried, that’s why they called. Weren’t you crying?” Owen teased.

“I was not!” Liam huffed, his cheeks turning rosy. Owen found it adorable. “Besides, you needed the help. Were you going to hang out all night?” He raised an eyebrow cheekily and Owen gave in.

“I don’t think I’d ever been so embarrassed.” He wiped his hands down his face, a self-deprecating chuckle vibrating off his palms. “Two trucks, eight firefighters. One of them wanted tocarryme down but I was fine using their ladder on my own. Meanwhile, Mrs. Schumer was waiting at the bottomholding the cat,who got downpurrfectly fine on its own.”

Owen exaggerated the pun and they both exploded into laughter that lasted five minutes because they kept setting each other off. When Liam would calm down, a snicker from Owen would restart them and when Owen started to settle, wiping at his wet eyes, Liam would giggle and they’d go another round. When they finally wound down, Liam was biting his lips to hold back and Owen was breathing deeply, trying to control himself. He hadn’t laughed like that in ages; he’d forgotten how good it felt. It kept him from brooding over the fact that Sharon had been tanning by the pool that afternoon, ignoring everything until the fire department showed up. Although she’d put on a very believable act of being concerned and scared for her husband, Owen could tell that she’d been fuming underneath it all. And he was right. Later, behind closed doors, she’d screamed at him about how he’d humiliated her in front of the whole neighborhood and then gave him the silent treatment for a week.

Now that Owen was outside of it all and away from her, he could only agree with Finn. She’d treated him terribly. He didn’t know how he’d made it for so long.

Stilling, Liam’s expression twisted as he uncannily picked up on Owen’s thoughts in a way that Sharon never had. The tension in the room came back and Owen knew that this time it was his fault.

He wondered if he should talk about what he’d been going through. To be honest, he was a little bit of a hypocrite; how could he expect Liam to open up if he didn’t share his own pain? It was worth a try. He’d have to talk about it eventually so why not now?

“Liam, I know I told you about the divorce but I didn’t get into the details.” He tried to hold Liam’s eyes but that green-gold gaze broke away, shifting off to the side.

“Y-You don’t have to tell me. It’s none of my business.” Liam clasped his hands together again, so tightly that the knuckles went white, but his eyes drifted back. Owen could see a flicker of curiosity in them.

“I think you should know. In fact, I want you to know. We’re friends and I shouldn’t be hiding this from you. I’d rather you hear it from me than someone else.” It was tough to hold those eyes, especially when he was going to confess, so Owen glanced back and forth between them and his plate, picking at his fries.

“Sharon cheated on me. A few times.” His voice was soft enough to hear Liam’s gasp. “And on a Wednesday a little over eight months ago, I came home from work to find her and Michael gone, along with their things.”

“Wh-What?” Liam stuttered, aghast. A hand flew over his mouth.

“She took my son from me.” Owen stared at the food without seeing it. “I spent five days calling hospitals, police departments, anyone I knew, trying to find them. Finally, her lawyer got in touch and told me that they were okay and living with her boyfriend.”

“Herboyfriend?“ Liam echoed through his hand in disbelief, his eyebrows scrunched so tightly that lines appeared on his forehead.

Owen let out a mirthless chuckle, nodding his head. “Yes. Apparently, she’d been seeing someone for years.”

Liam dropped his hand in his lap. “Oh my god.” His tone was all awe and empathy, and Owen felt somewhat bolstered by it. It was nice to have someone who wasn’t Finn, his therapist, or his lawyer validate his feelings and situation. Sure, Finn was great, but he was too close to the situation. And Owen didn’t have much family left. His mother had died over a decade ago and his father wasn’t the type to offer sympathy for anything which meant, as an only child, he was on his own with this. Sharon had chased away the bulk of his friends so being able to talk this out with someone new was valuable.

“We’d been having trouble for a long time.” Owen shrugged. “But we hid it well. No one knew, only Finn. We probably should’ve divorced years ago. And I have to admit that I’m not entirely blameless.”

“No.” Anger splashed across Liam’s face. He’d lowered his hands but now they were clenched into fists. His cheeks were red again, splotchy, and his eyes flashed, lips set in a thin line. It was rare to see such emotion from him so Owen just sat there, stunned. “You can’t blame yourself for someone’s cheating.” Catching himself, Liam stopped, snapping his jaw shut as if he’d said too much.

“Finn told me the same thing,” Owen tilted his head. “But Sharon and I both had our problems.”

Owen wasn’t quite ready enough to talk about their dead bedroom with Liam. When he and Sharon started dating in college, Owen had identified as bisexual; however, as the years went on, he slid up the Kinsey scale. Sexuality was fluid and Owen always hoped he’d find his attraction to Sharon again but it had been lost amongst their difficulties. When she hadn’t been walling him out Sharon was resentful and petty but Owen had kept trying for the sake of their son. He didn’t know if he’d been a hero or a fool, or a little bit of both.

“Wait…” Liam’s eyes were wide, his face paling as he clearly connected some dots. “You said Michael was taken eight months ago. You’ve seen him since then, right?”

Owen took in a deep, shoulder-rising breath and cracked his neck. “No.”

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