Simon had given him a key to the guesthouse. He hadn’t moved in yet. He didn’t have the furniture to fill it yet, and things were too hectic because of his hand. Trevor knew he would have to give Simon a real answer soon. And he wanted to. He did, even if he was still nervous about it.
Trevor jumped into the shower, and cleaned off all the dirt and sweat from his day. When he got out, he wrapped a towel around his waist before reaching for his razor where it usually sat on the counter, and it wasn’t there.
Simon had been a little antsy. He stayed home half the time anyway, but since having the surgery, he felt like he was going crazy. He’d been cleaning (left handed) like mad for a few days now.
Trevor kneeled and opened the cabinet under the sink to see if his razor was there. He pushed a few things aside. A bottle of peroxide fell over, and he picked it up.
His eyes darted to the left of the bottle and...
It wasn’t the razor that caught his attention, though.
A bottle.
A bottle Simon had tried to hide from Trevor. He’d been very quiet about taking his pain medication since his surgery.
The bottle drew his attention again.
Oxycodone.
Oxy, oxy, oxy, oxy.
He’d had some fun on oxy.
Trevor slammed the cabinet shut. Took a few deep breaths. Closed his eyes, rubbed them, as though he could unsee the pills there. As though he could forget. He couldn’t. He could still see them even with the cabinet door closed.
Move, he instructed his legs. Fucking move. Stand up. Walk away. Do something.
But it didn’t work. He started to sweat. His vision blurred, so he rubbed his eyes again, trying to clear them, but that made it even worse. His vision zeroed in on the cabinet.
Then a part of him did move, but not his legs. His arm. His hand. Trevor opened the cabinet again. Grabbed the bottle before falling backward to sit against the wall.
It had been so long. He shouldn’t still want it this bad. Why did he still want it this bad?
Just one. He could take one and Simon would never know. One pill wouldn’t do much to him...just take the edge off. Help him forget about his worries with his brother, help him forget the pain he’d caused his mother. His fear over how he felt about Simon, and maybe clear his head so his decision became a little easier.
Trevor touched the white lid. Almost twisted it, but then threw it back into the cabinet. He slammed the door closed.
He should go to a meeting. Call his sponsor. He knew that. But instead he grabbed his coin, climbed into the bed, and lay on his side.
Trevor hated that he still wanted it. Hated that time didn’t seem to ease it. Not when he had a bottle of oxy waiting for him in the other room.
And then he thought of Simon. He’d had to hide his fucking pills under the cabinet because Trevor was so weak. Because he was scared whether Trevor could handle it or not. And apparently he had a good reason to feel that way. How could he bring all his demons into Simon’s home? How could he ask Simon to deal with him, all day, every day?
The answer was, he couldn’t.
***
The house was quiet when Simon got home. He set the bags of groceries on the counter, and then went for the bedroom. “Trev? Are you in the shower?” He turned into the room to see Trevor lying down, with his back to Simon, in nothing except a towel.
The hairs on the back of his neck stood.
Something was wrong. He could see it in the set of his lover’s body. In the fact that he didn’t turn to look at Simon.
Simon’s heart sped up. “Are you feeling okay?” He walked toward the bed, stopped so close that his legs were touching it before Trevor spoke.
“I can’t do this. I’m scared of fucking up.”
Simon’s chest hurt his heart beat so hard. Nausea twisted his stomach, tied it into knots. Please don’t let him have relapsed. “Hey. You’re doing great. You’re not going to screw up.” Simon’s voice shook.
Had he already taken something? Was he coming down? High? Simon wanted to ask, but he wanted to believe in Trevor, too. Because Trevor needed that, needed someone who believed in him. “It’s a process. You’ve been clean for over a year. That’s incredible. You have every right to be proud of yourself. I’m proud of you.” Simon walked around to the other side of the bed and looked down at Trevor. It broke his heart to see the man like that. He was shaking. Scared. Hurt.
“I’ve never had as much respect for anyone in my life as I have for you. It would be so easy for you to give in, but you don’t. You fight. You made me want to fight. That’s why I had the surgery. I fought because of you.” And that was the truth.