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He shrugged and walked upstairs, saying nothing.
I followed him to his room, which was an unusual mess. Clothes were strewn everywhere while empty mugs, plates and bowls littered every surface.
This wasn’t the Liam I knew. The compulsively tidy Liam who never had a thing out of place.
I picked up the clothes from the chair to sit, and he climbed back into bed.
“Work has been…”
“I don’t care, John. A simple text would have sufficed, but instead, you ghosted me. Not one word. Nothing. I know we’re not dating or anything like that, but you were the one wanting to keep in touch. Not once did you reply to any of my messages.”
He was right, and it was unforgivable. I wasn’t very good at relationships, having never had one. I didn’t understand the intricacies involved in keeping one going. With Sam, it was different. He was a colleague. We messaged when we needed to.
Friends were few and far between, probably for that exact reason. I failed to uphold my end of the bargain.
“I’m not very good at this, clearly. I just got…busy. I never meant to ghost you. Every time I remembered, it was too late to call or message you. Let me make us a drink, and we can talk about this.”
I needed to put things right.
I collected as much of the washing-up as possible and carried it to the kitchen, finding Drew sitting there.
“You really did a number on him. Did you not think how he would react to you not talking to him? He’s barely off the drugs, and he’s fragile, as much as he pretends to be strong.”
“He seemed fine the last time we spoke, Drew.”
“And when was that? Five days ago? Six? You can’t treat him that way. Do all this shit you’ve been doing with him, raising his hopes, then snatching them away from him when it suits you.”
He slammed the glass down on the table. It was a wonder it didn’t break. He was right, of course.
“I didn’t intend to do that. Work got in the way, and my job is important.”
“Oh, and his isn’t, nor mine.”
“That’s not what I’m saying.”
“Sure sounds like it.”
“Drew, I’m a police officer. Sometimes I get immersed in my work, and this case we’re investigating is tough. It’s taking all my time. When I get home from work, I’m so exhausted all I can do is grab some food before I collapse into a heap. Of course Liam is important. I just…”
I just what?
“You just don’t have the time for him.”
No, that wasn’t true. I had time for him, except I hadn’t. I’d let him down.
I made some of the instant coffee he still insisted on drinking and took it back to him, Drew’s words giving me food for thought.
Liam was up out of bed, gathering some clothes into a pile. I guessed he didn’t like the mess either.
“Sit. Let’s talk.”
He dropped the clothes he was holding and sat on the bed. I joined him.
I grimaced as I drank the disgusting coffee, then set my mug on the nightstand.
“Liam, I’m not great at relationships. I’m not good at texting, calling, and keeping in touch. It’s not something I’ve had to do before. I meant to call you. I really did.” I took his hand. It was small, delicate, just like the rest of him, but at least he didn’t pull away.
“I know I’m too much,” he said. “I’m overbearing, and I’m an ‘all in’ kind of person. The word limit isn’t in my vocabulary. My brain doesn’t register when I’m overstepping boundaries, and I suppose I expect everyone else to be the same as me.” Thank god he was talking to me.
