Overdose (BXB) Completed/Editing

Chapter 22 - Home

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Walking through the front door felt liberating. Nothing changed which is strangely comforting. My dad hasn't taken down the Christmas tree or any of the decorations. Usually, he takes the decorations down after my birthday, but I guess he didn't get to it yet. "I'll start on dinner," My dad says as he places his coat on the hooks next to the door. "You left the decorations up..." I state while walking over to the couch.

"Uh, I just..." He pauses before looking around. I frown, "I wasn't here." I declare knowingly and he nods. "Usually, we take them down together, so I wanted to wait for you," He explains with a slight smile. I may be the luckiest addict ever. I have, on multiple occasions, given my dad reasons to lose faith in me. I don't even think I'd have faith in myself if I were in his shoes. He continues to support me despite everything, to say I'm lucky is an understatement.

I want him to be proud of me. I don't want him to worry as much, but I know it's a long way to a full recovery. For now, I'll try my best not to fuck up. You've said that before and days later you overdosed. The difference between the last time I said that to now is the fact that I didn't just finish four lines of cocaine.

"I'm gonna shower and then we can take them down," I smile at him. His face lights up and he nods quickly. With that, I head down the hallway and open the door to my room. In my absence, my dad made my bed and cleared off the mounds of clothes that I left on my desk chair. The blinds are open allowing daylight to cast over my bed, making the sheets look heavenly. I walk in and close the door behind me. I scan the room as my mind wanders out to the times when I almost lost my battles with my mind.

As my eyes dart around the room, they land on the sleeve of my dad's old jersey. Tauntingly, it sticks out amongst my clothes as a reminder of something that should have never happened. Get rid of it. Do I give it the satisfaction of potentially being worn by someone else? It is a piece of clothing. It wasn't just a piece of clothing when it was given to me and it isn't now.

I sigh with contentment before walking to the bathroom. The thing I missed the most, second to my dad, was taking long showers with the water almost boiling.

An hour passed, and I showered and changed into pajama pants and a sweater. I then brushed through my hair which felt like manual labor, but I got it done. I don't look like a million bucks, but I look better than I did before. You look like a crumpled five-dollar bill. I guess it's an improvement that I no longer look like a Tim Burton character. Not that I cared before but seeing myself look human is rewarding.

I carry Nico's clothes to the laundry room and drop them in the washer. I'll return them soon and thank him again for letting me interrupt his procrastination. I wonder what he's been up to for the last six weeks. I thought of him more than I wanted myself to while I was in rehab. He would cross my mind every so often and I'd find myself thinking about all the things I wish I could say to him. Anyway, it's been six weeks, I doubt that he still feels the way he did about me.

"Hey," I walk past my dad and head over to the island. He's cutting yellow squash with a knife that I've never seen before. My eyes shift to the counter where a new knife set is positioned next to a cookbook. "Was that from Sabrina?" I ask, keeping my gaze on the knives. When he turns to look at them, I quickly grab a piece of squash and throw it in my mouth. "Yes. I told her she didn't have to get me anything, but she did anyway," He smiles.

"So, are you guys...serious?" I ask resting my chin in my palms. He chuckles softly while shaking his head. "Dad? Are you and Sabrina...official?!" I ask but this time using my best impression of a high school girl whose entire personality is gossiping.

"We're...learning a lot about each other and taking things slow," he says, setting the knife down and looking at everything except my eyes. I stare at him studiously, "If I asked her would she lie to me too?" I probe while absent-mindedly eating uncooked squash. "Stop that, you're going to spoil your dinner AND for your information, Sabrina and I haven't labeled...what we are," He intones after snatching the bowl of squash from the counter.