Being Bad

Chapter 70: You Can Never Be Forgiven

She nearly slammed the door in our faces.

After Andrew had introduced himself to Bellamy's mother, whom I remembered to be Mrs. Greene, she stood there behind the threshold without saying a word.

Stoic. Not a single expression.

Andrew put his palm on the front door before it shuts and he pushes it slightly back open. Mrs. Greene's nostrils flared as he did so.

There's still open wounds, I'm guessing.

"What could you possibly want? You killed my daughter!" She exclaimed, her eyes glossy from tears.

I grabbed Andrew's hand for support, and I noticed him starting to tense up. I kissed his back through his shirt to calm him down.

"I-I just wanna t-talk. That's all." His eyes searching the ground and his head hung low.

"You've done enough to this family." She spat, and was quite literally about to slam the door again.

That's when I had to come into the conversation.

I stopped the door with my foot, and she eyed me curiously.

"With all due respect Mrs. Greene, we traveled a good amount of time to get here and visit you. All Andrew wants is to explain himself for some clarity, and I'm sure you would want some clarity too."

She exhaled heavily, looking between the two of us.

"Are you two—"

"I'm just here for moral support." I cut her off. "Please, just hear him out. He wants closure just as much as you do."

Mrs. Greene nodded slowly, and she opened the door more for us to enter. I looked back, grabbing Andrew's hand and pulling him inside.

It was a small, quaint townhouse. The front room had some stairs leading to the second level, and to our right was the living room. There was a brick fireplace, and an L-shaped couch, accompanied with a rug and a glass coffee table.

She brought us over to the couch, and gestured for us to sit down. We sat down next to one another, and I put my hand on his thigh.

"I'll go grab some tea for us to drink." Mrs. Greene stated before walking behind us to the kitchen. We heard pots rustling, and the fridge opening as we sat idly in their living room.

"Hey," I whispered. "You can do this. I know you probably thought she wouldn't let us in, but now that she has you can finally get what you've wanted for almost two years."

He looked at me with a face of concern. "I don't think I can, Lia. Didn't you hear her? I ruined their family."

"You know you didn't do this, Andrew. She needs someone to blame because she didn't exactly know what happened. Her parents don't understand the situation enough."

"Maybe so, but that's not gonna stop them from blaming me."

I sighed, putting my hand on his cheek. "To be completely honest, I don't think they'll ever forgive you. But this isn't for forgiveness, this is for closure. For them, and for you."

He leaned toward me and pressed a soft kiss to my lips. It was short, but longer than a few seconds. When we pulled away, his lips lingered on mine, and I pulled him into a hug.

A few minutes later, Mrs. Greene came back with four cups of tea. She handed us ours, and she placed the other two on the coffee table. Her husband accompanied us in the living room, sitting in one of the lonely chairs by the window.

"I'm guessing he's here to talk about our daughter." Mr. Greene said, passively.

"I am." He sighed, gathering up the little courage he had left. "Look, Mr. and Mrs. Greene, I know how much Bellamy meant to you; she's your daughter. But she meant a great deal to me too."