Page 95 of Addicted

“How about we agree that we’re both a work in progress?” Liam hugged Owen back as best he could since Owen was still attached to a few machines, noticing for the first time that they had a steady beep, one that didn’t echo in his mind.

“Yes. I think that’s a fair statement.” Owen pulled back, holding Liam by the shoulders.

“And how about you agree to stop using my problems to avoid thinking about Michael?” It hurt Liam to bring it up but it needed to be addressed. Owen looked like he’d been slapped, all the sparkle leaving his gaze as he looked away, his hands dropping to his lap. “I’m sorry, but you need to take care of yourself. You haven’t been to therapy since I started rehab and you brush me off whenever I try to talk to you about your insomnia. You collapsed at work! Please-” He touched Owen’s cheek, gently forcing Owen to meet his eyes and Liam hoped that he was properly emoting everything he felt. The love, the fear, the desperation, how very much he wanted them to have a future together. “I can’t lose you too.”

The last thing Liam expected was for Owen’s eyes to fill with tears. It happened so fast that they spilled over, streaming down Owen’s face before Liam could process them but he recovered quickly, pulling Owen close and soothing hands down his back.

The doctor appeared again, slipping through the curtain behind Owen. She stopped cold, her lips parting in an ‘oh’ as she took them in, and then stepped back and away, drawing the fabric closed, giving them as much privacy as they could get in a busy emergency room.

“I miss him. I miss him so much.” Owen sobbed into Liam’s shoulder, letting out the anguish and grief he’d been avoiding. “I’ve been trying not to think of him but he calls to me in my dreams. I want to see him again. I want to hear his voice. I need to know if he’s all right.”

“I’m positive that he’s okay. And I’m sure that he misses you. Mikey won’t ever forget you and I know that once he’s a little bit older he’s going to track you down. You raised him, he has your determination.”

Owen chuckled wetly on a sob. “You mean he’s stubborn.”

“Yeah.” Liam petted Owen’s hair. “I would do anything to bring my dad back because he was the best dad ever and so are you. And as long as you’re still breathing you have a chance to see Mikey again.”

“You’re right.” Owen lifted his head, his reddened eyes searching Liam’s face.

“So, you’re going to take care of yourself and stay healthy, okay? That’s your job, to stay alive for me and Mikey. No collapsing at the office anymore.”

Owen wiped his eyes, nodding. “When did you get so wise?”

“Therapy.” Liam pecked him on his lips, tasting salt, but not minding in the least.

“I’m the best dad ever?” Owen reached for a tissue, blotting his cheeks.

“Tied.” Liam smiled, reaching forward and brushing fingers through Owen’s hair, straightening it. “With my dad, but I may be biased.”

“I tell better jokes though.”

Liam tried not to roll his eyes. “There’s a big difference between bad jokes and dad jokes. And that difference is the first letter.”

“Are you ready?”

Liam stared at the bank across the street, studying the large green and white logo painted across its windows. There were people inside running errands, going about their daily lives without any idea how nerve-wracking the next half hour would be for him. Not that he expected them to know but it was strange how an earth-shaking event for one person could happen right alongside someone else’s normal routine. When his parents died, he wanted to scream at everyone around him; how could they be doing such mundane things while his life was falling apart? But now he understood that no matter what happened to him or the people that passed him by, the world kept spinning, taking everyone and their problems along with it.

Liam cracked his neck.

“No? But I don’t think I’ll ever be.” He’d managed to stall his aunt for a few days and now everything was in order; all Liam had to do was show up to sign the paperwork. Of course he was nervous but beneath that lay the steely foundation he’d summoned while Owen was in the emergency room, the strength that he’d been slowly building in rehab and therapy that - once manifested - hadn’t gone away.

Taking a deep breath, Liam slowly let it out, repeating the action a few more times. Once he felt calmer, he nodded to himself and reached for the door handle.

“Wait!” Owen grasped at him, bringing Liam in for a kiss. It was a slow press of lips, settling Liam down even more than the breathing had. When they parted, Liam kept his eyes closed for a few seconds, savoring the way Owen made him feel, and when he finally opened them he stared into an endless expanse of blue. “Good luck in there. I’ll be watching.”

“I love you.” The words fell so easily from Liam’s lips.

Owen gave him one more kiss. “I love you too, Angel. You got this.”

Far too soon Liam was opening the heavy front door of the bank. He’d gotten there early, so he could get his bearings before his aunt and Laurence arrived, and was studying the tellers behind the counter when an imposing dark-haired man in a navy-blue suit appeared beside him.

“Mr. Gray?” He held out his hand. “Detective Richardson.”

Liam shook it, glad that his palms were dry. “Nice to meet you. So, you’re-”

“I’m theactingbranch manager for the next hour, yes. I’m sure Ms. Chauhan has gone over the details with you but let’s review it one more time.”

At Liam’s nod, the detective gestured to the office behind them. It matched the motif of the building, with glass walls all around so Liam could easily see the rest of the bank. The desk in front of him had a small nameplate with gold letters that spelled out Matthew Ford - the name of the real branch manager Richardson was impersonating - and there were a few plants in the corners and on the windowsill, giving the space a bit of lift and life. Settling into a chair across from Richardson, Liam looked outside at where Owen’s car was waiting like a sentinel of support, and while he couldn’t see Owen through the glare of the windshield it was enough to know he was there.

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