Relapse / / h.s.

Chapter Twenty-Four.

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I took the stairs slowly, holding onto the wooden railing as my thoughts reeled round and round my head. Why hadn't she told me? After all we'd been through with me, why hadn't she told me that the only reason she'd been so invested in the first place was because she had been going through the same thing?

   I made it up to her room a lot sooner than I'd thought. Her head was upside down and she was yanking a brush through her wet waves. I leaned against the doorway, watching her, not knowing what to say.

  "You going to come in?" She wondered when she was upright again. In contrast to her messy clothes from the night before, she wore a pair of spandex pants with a black t-shirt that was nearly two sizes too big on her. I wondered to myself if that was her brother's shirt- but somehow I knew it was.

   "Harry," her smile fell into a worried look and before I knew it she as standing in front of me. "What's wrong?"

  Instead of answering her I let out a long sigh, finally moving into her room and allowing her to shut her door behind me.

  In no time she was in front of me again, looking like a concerned mother. She'll be a good mother one day, that's for sure, because she's so kind and compassionate but most of all she never gives up- even though I know there's no way she isn't exhausted with my constant back and forth by now.

  "Harry," she tried again, her dainty hand  stretching out to cover mine after we both sat on her perfectly-made bed. It wasn't lost on me that even after the night she'd had- she was making sure that I was okay. There wasn't anything wrong with me, I just had a lot of questions and couldn't find the words to ask them.

  So I breathed an, "Elena," and watched as her features turned into a smile only to fall again when I asked, "how come you never told me about him? About Declan?"

  "I have told you about Declan," she said quietly, unsurely. It was obvious she knew what I was talking about, but was choosing to avoid it. I could tell in the change of her big, brown eyes. "He's my brother. He's two years older than me and-"

  "You know that's not what I'm talking about."

  Elena blew all of the air out of her cheeks and I resisted the urge to place my hand over here instead. As if on command, all of the color drained from her face and she looked as if she might start to cry.

  "She told you," she muttered, crossing her legs under herself and staring at her carpet.

  "Yeah," I confirmed. "She told me. Why didn't you?"

"I don't know," she said, finally looking up at me. Tears brimmed her eyes and i suddenly felt like the biggest dick in the world.

"Elena I-"

  "No," she wiped her eyes and sniffled. "It's okay. I'm tired of hearing that people feel sorry for me."

  I nodded in understanding. I knew where she was coming from with that.

She looked like she was on the verge of a break-down, so I pulled her in close by the shoulders, letting her tears soak the front of my shirt. I shouldn't have brought it up. If she wanted me to know, she would have told me. Why do I always have to push? God, I was such an ass.

"It should have been me," she sobbed into my shirt, gasping for breath. I lay on the bed and pulled her down with me, letting her lay her head on my chest as I rubbed circles into her back. "It should have been me."

"No Elena." She was always so composed, always my support system, seeing her like this was absolutely gut-wrenching.

I let her sob into my chest for what felt like forever. Something told me that she needed this- that she never actually allowed herself time to grieve. Kathy said she bottled it all up and I couldn't help but wonder why. She had been so persistent in me talking about my feelings toward Lily- but what about her feelings? What about Declan?