Page 84 of Addicted

“Exactly.” Gripping the knob, Owen opened the door, glad it swung outward. He hadn’t known what to expect but seeing the entire room crammed from floor to ceiling with cardboard boxes made him sigh loudly. Some had writing on them, indicating that they were from the kitchen or bathroom, but most were blank, stacked on top of each other, waiting for someone to unpack their contents and give all the items inside a home again. Liam must have rifled through the piles searching for Owen’s birthday gifts, and that made Owen feel simultaneously proud and sad. He didn’t want to think of Liam struggling, or how his presence forced Liam to struggle more than he already had been.

Finn let out a low whistle, poking one of the boxes with a pointed foot. “I hope we can fit all of these in the van.”

“We will. I paid for the largest one they had because we’re not only taking these, we’re cleaning out the entire place. I don’t want Liam coming back here if I can help it.” This apartment was as welcoming as a tomb and Owen didn’t want Liam returning to such a dismal environment. He should be comfortable, supported in a dwelling full of sunshine and love, and Owen’s home was the perfect place for that.

“You’re not getting any arguments from me. I’ve only been here for five minutes and I’m depressed.” Hefting two boxes, Finn vanished, heading toward the front door.

They always worked well as a team and managed to empty the bedroom in under an hour. Owen then moved on to the kitchen, sorting through drawers as Finn took a short break, sitting cross-legged on the floor and rehydrating.

“When do we have to get back?”

Owen checked his watch even though he knew exactly how much time he had before he needed to pick Liam up.

“In two and a half hours.” He looked around, realizing that aside from the items from his childhood home, Liam didn’t have much. Some utensils, plates, pots and pans, his clothing, laptop, and a few odds and ends, but for someone who had lived here for years, the place was frighteningly bare. He’d never settled in. He’d just haunted the place like a ghost. It only made Owen want to spoil him more.

“That should be enough time. How is Liam doing?” Finn stared at Owen, expectant. Between handling things at work and getting Liam through withdrawal and into a program, the last week had been beyond busy. Owen had texted Finn to let him know how things were moving along but they hadn’t had much time to talk until now.

“Well…” Owen finished emptying the drawer in front of him and sighed. “I brought him to urgent care the night we found him. He didn’t have a concussion but the following seventy-two hours were bad. He’d only used for a few months but he still had withdrawal symptoms - muscle aches, fever, nausea. He spent a lot of hours on the bathroom floor.” And shivering in Owen’s arms, crying and apologizing as Owen held him tightly. Even thinking about it brought tears to his eyes. “But thankfully he’s past that. He’s mostly tired now, physically and mentally exhausted.”

“I bet. He’s doing some difficult work.” Finn stood, stretched his back with a grunt, and then leaned against the counter beside him.

“He is. I’m proud of him.” Owen nodded, thinking about how terrified Liam looked the first day Owen had dropped him off at outpatient rehab, but he said nothing as he squared his shoulders and marched in. True to his word, Owen had found Liam a place that ran a day program out of a refurbished high school. It was under the umbrella of the local hospital, but not in it or on the grounds, and two of the therapists had a background in grief counseling. It also offered art and music therapy, a fitness center, group sessions, biofeedback, and each patient was assigned a recovery coach who assisted them on their journey. “He’s too timid for NA but he told me he’s shared in group a few times. And he’s being very diligent about therapy.”

Liam hadn’t liked his first therapist, who’d been a bit too challenging and tough for his sensitive nature, so he’d been given someone else - an older woman softer in demeanor, with flowing clothes and an easy smile - and Liam had gelled with her immediately, doing all the assignments she’d given him. He’d even purchased a few self-help books she’d recommended and was quickly tearing through the first one, taking notes and practicing the exercises.

“That’s great.” Finn lightly punched Owen’s arm. “And what about you? Are you getting any sleep? Because we could pack some things in those bags under your eyes.”

“You’re always a charmer.” Owen shook his head at Finn. To be honest, he’d been too busy to sleep, which was fine because that meant he was also too busy to think about Michael. “I’m trying. Dr. Lawson mentioned sleeping pills but…”

“But you don’t want anything like that in the house right now. Not with Liam recovering.”

“No.” Owen pulled open another drawer, found it empty, and then reached for the cabinet above his head. A hand grasped his shoulder just before he could open it.

“I shouldn’t have to say this but it’s important that you take care of yourself too. Don’t use Liam’s problems as a distraction from your own. You need to be in good mental health to care for him.” Finn’s eyes were serious and his lips were turned down in a small frown of concern.

Reaching back, Owen patted Finn’s hand. “Thanks, Finn. But really, I’m okay. I’ll stop at the pharmacy and get some melatonin or something. And I’m going to therapy in a few days.” What he didn’t tell Finn was that he’d been too swept up in caring for Liam and work, so he’d canceled his last two appointments.

“Okay. But if you look like this the next time I see you, I’m going to knock you out myself.” Finn still didn’t look convinced so Owen grinned at him.

“With a shovel to the back of my head?”

That broke the spell. Finn barked out a laugh. “Only if you’re lucky.”

“Where’s this all going?” Finn hopped out of the van as they parked in Owen’s driveway.

Shutting off the engine, Owen turned the handle next to the driver’s seat, opening the rear doors. “The spare bedroom.”

Finn raised an eyebrow at him as they met at the back of the van. “You meanMichael’sroom?”

Owen gave him a tight nod. He’d put so much effort into that room when he’d moved into the condo, painstakingly decorating it to mimic Michael’s old bedroom in the house that Owen had been forced to sell. Putting it together had been like an offering, a prayer that Owen would be reunited with his little potato, and it had remained a room of hope until he’d lost not only custody but biology too. Then it had turned into something he couldn’t bear to look at, and he deeply understood why Liam had shut the boxes away. Neither of them wanted reminders of what they had lost. But Owen didn’t want the room to become a shrine or a grave. He thought about repainting and buying new furniture if Liam decided to take it.

Although he’d asked Liam to move in, he hadn’t wanted to push and assume that they’d share a bedroom. Owen had even been willing to offer his own room and sleep on the couch, but for those first few nights they rarely slept and, when Liam did manage to rest, he wanted to do so in Owen’s arms and bed. They hadn’t done anything more than hold each other and exchange a quick kiss every morning when Owen dropped Liam off at rehab, which was enough for Owen. He wasn’t expecting anything else. All he wanted was for Liam to heal. They’d discuss their relationship - all aspects of it - when the time was right.

Finn sighed. “We still haven’t talked about this but I’m sorry. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you. I was being a twat.”

“I think I was the twat.” Owen rested the side of his head on the door.

“What kind of friend am I that I didn’t support you after the big custody hearing?”

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