Can You Keep A Secret?

Chapter Forty-One

-Liv's POV-

I frantically knocked on the door after having tried and failed to open it, calling out, "Andy? You okay?"

"I'm fine," he replied in a monotone, muffled voice from behind the door.

"I don't believe you," I said, not letting him get off the hook that easily.

"Fine. I'm not fire, but I want to be alone," he said.

"Can you at least tell me what's wrong?" I pleaded, afraid of what he would do, now that I knew what he was capable of.

"Liv, please," he said, and I could hear the desperation in his voice, so, despite me wanting to kick the door open and force a confession out of him, I let him be. We could talk about it later

Mikey was still there when I returned to the living room, which came as a bit of a relief – I still couldn't believe that he'd traveled all that way just to come see me.

With his messy hair and dreamy look in his eyes, it was easy to forget that there was a world beyond him, but I was brought back to the present as he asked, "What's up with Andy? Is he okay?" I shrugged, slipping back in beside him.

"I don't know. He won't talk to me," I admitted. A small flash of something I could quite touch flickered in his eyes – Jealously? Betrayal? As he spoke again.

"I didn't even know he was staying here."

"I'm sorry, it totally slipped my mind," I said, resting my hand on his belly and my head on his chest. "He got into an accident and smashed his car, so I was just helping his stay low and wait for his mum to calm down for a while," I said, leaving out the fact that he'd also been drunk out of his mind, or that I'd been the person to find him.

"Oh, shit," Mikey said, clearly a little surprised by my answer.

"He's okay," I said quickly. "Like, he didn't get hurt or anything. But yeah." I felt his chest rise and fall as he took a deep breath.

"We've all gotten sorta disconnected over this break, huh? I've never even really gotten to talk to you about how you're holding up." I looked up at him, and his kind blue eyes that made me feel safe and loved. I needed somebody to vent to. Rye was obviously hit harder by what had happened, but it hadn't been easy for me, either.

"Honestly? I'm not doing too well. Can we talk about it in my room?" I asked, already beginning to detangle myself from him.

"Of course," he said, his voice visibly weighed down with sorrow. "I feel terrible that I haven't really been there for you." He audibly swallowed before talking again, a little choked up. "It's apparent how more than ever that we can't take the present for granted. I don't ever want you to go without knowing how much I love you."

A few tears pricked the back of my own eyes as I stopped in the middle of the hallway to face him directly.

"There will never be words to express how much I love you. And because of that, I need to ask you to stop blaming yourself. None of it is your fault. None."

"I'm sorry," he whispered, a single tear falling down his cheek.

"Don't be," I said, leaning over to kiss the trail that it made.

My room was decorated with Polaroid pictures strung across the walls; memories of a life of love and fun and happiness that couldn't be erased, no matter what. Mikey and I sat across from each other on my bed, sitting criss cross applesauce, our hands parting the distance between us.

We talked for hours about all of the important things that had been weighing us down – How I had felt a little like my life was spinning out of control latterly. How sometimes I couldn't sleep because I couldn't stop thinking about what had happened, and how I carried some of the guilt that it was my fault that Rye had gotten shot, and how I had spent hours googling the victims who had died, learning about their lives and the families and friends that had been left behind.

Mikey had stayed silent while I spoke, rubbing my back and wiping my tears. He didn't tell me that it would be okay, and didn't try to tell me that what I was feeling was wrong, and it turned out to be just what I needed. Simply his presence and a listening ear was enough.

I confided in him that Rye hadn't answered any of my texts or calls for the past couple of days, and Mikey told me that he'd broken his phone, and then entered his new number into mine. He told me what had been happening with Rye – How he'd prolonged telling his family, and the blind fear that he had felt when he'd heard that he had gone missing. How he feared that he was losing everyone that he loved all at once.

He expressed his concern for Andy, and I came close to telling him what had really happened, but caught myself. I admitted that it wasn't heatstroke, but that it was up to Andy to decide when he was ready to tell the truth.

We spilled our hearts out and ended up laying on our backs, staring up at the ceiling, exhausted, but relieved at the same time. It was then that the door cracked open a bit and I got a glimpse of Andy, his hair wet, presumably from a shower.

"Good night guys," he said softly.

"Wait, no, don't go," I said, my heart overflowing with love and appreciation, now that the heavy things had been partially relieved. "C'mere."

I motioned to the spot next to me. He came in cautiously, as if second guessing my invitation, so I nodded enthusiastically for him to get a move on.

He hesitantly perched on the edge of my bed.

"There's enough room for all three of us, you doofus," I laughed. When he finally settled in, I let out a soft, content sigh.

"I love you guys," I said. "There are no two people who have had such a great effect on my life. I am forever grateful for all that yous have done for me, and I care so much for you both."

As I lay in the darkness, my two favorite people on each side of me, I had never felt so at peace.