Can You Keep a Secret

Technology did not make sense. Why did I have nearly ten wires hanging where the TV should be? It didn't make sense. What could all of them be for, anways?

I gave up on trying to straighten up the entertainment area of the living room. The TV, DVD player, and other systems were all gone, but our DVD collections was still sitting in its place. Eric's CDs were still lined up. The family pictures he had were still sitting tall. 

I stepped closer to the frames. I had never really looked at any of the pictures he had. There were a lot of him and his brothers. Every now and then, Ray popped into a photo. There were team pictures in one area. I stopped on the picture on the side. 

When had he gotten that picture? I barely remembered it being taken. 

The year Eric won the Stanley Cup with his team, I had been in Raleigh, watching every game. I hadn't screamed so loud as I did when they were announced the Cup winners. I had lost my voice for a full week. 

In the picture, Eric was still sweaty from the game. He was glowing with happiness. I was standing against his side, wearing the Hurricanes's jersey my brother had gotten for me. My hair was a wreck and I honestly thought I looked terrible. Especially standing next to him. His arm was wrapped around me, squishing us together for the photo. At 18, I had been so proud of my brother and Eric. 

I picked up the picture. I held it gingerly in front of my as I sat down on the couch, staring at it. They would be home the next day. I has gotten to the point where I just wanted him to be home. I was tired of having no one around. 

I was tired of wondering what would happen to us after that kiss. I just wanted him back. Things were hard to figure out with only me being around. Maybe I would get a better feel of how things would work out if he was back. 

I jumped when I heard the garage door open. I began panicking. What if it was those men that bad robbed him before? It was almost midnight. The neighbors wouldn't be up if I needed help. 

Before I could freak out anymore, Eric walked into the kitchen. I couldn't describe the relief I felt. He dropped his keys onto the island, still oblivious to me standing in the living room, watching him. 

His eyes came up and he stopped. He looked scared almost.

I sprinted the distance between us before launching myself into his arms. I wrapped my arms around his neck. I never wanted to let go. 

Just like that, things felt better. I wasn't alone to deal with the mess of the raided house, the worries about us, or the annoyance of Shelly. 

Eric hugged me back. "Hello," he greeted.

My response came out as a choke between tears and laughter. I was trying not to cry, but that weight being removed just opened the flood gates to everything I had been holding it. 

"I heard from a little birdie that your week has been a long one," he commented. 

I sniffed. "Ray is hardly small or light enough to be resembled to a bird."

Eric chuckled. He rubbed my back as the tears started flowing. "I'm so sorry," I cried into his shoulder. 

"Don't worry about it. We'll figure it all out," he assured me. 

This was what I had needed all week long: an Eric hug. He had the unfailing ability to make everything seem okay. Even when I was younger and upset because Ray was being favored by our parents yet again, he made me feel like I was still important. Even after my boyfriend in high school, Eric made things seem okay. When I bombed my first test in college, Eric had been there, too. 

I continued to cry into his shoulder, letting go of everything; of the people who just couldn't go buy their own things, the frustration with people and their gossip, the stupid girl at work, the guy who couldn't be defined as a good or bad friend, and even Eric himself liking me. I needed every minute of it. 

I think he knew that, too. He'd grown good at reading me. 

I still couldn't describe how happy I was to just have him back home.

Eric let me cry on his shoulder for who knows how long it was. He didn't push me away or try to make me stop, he just stood there, rubbing my back occasionally. 

"Why aren't you at Ray's house?" Eric questioned when my tears slowly began to stop. 

"I wanted to try to clean stuff up before you got here tomorrow. Why are you home early?" I asked. 

"Ray and I felt like it would be better if we got home as soon as possible," he answered. 

I nodded my head against his shoulder. "It's a mess, isn't it? Looks kind of like someone removed a piece of my home," he commented lightly. 

I felt the tears well up in my eyes again. "I'm so-"

"Shrimp, it wasn't your fault. You wouldn't have been able to stop it if you had been here," he said. I felt him tense up a little bit after his second sentence. 

My stomach dropped at the thought of what would have happened if I had been here. 

"I'll let you go to bed. You're probably tired." I pulled away from him finally, wiping my face off. I avoided looking at his eyes. I most likely looked like a pile of trash. 

"I can stay up if you still need a shoulder to cry on," he told me. 

I gave him a small smile. "I'll be okay."

He nodded before dragging his suitcase behind him to his room. I watched him stop in his doorway, looking around. I knew what he was thinking.  Everything suddenly felt impersonal and violated. Nothing felt comfortable completely. 

I walked to my own room for the night. I hadn't really been in here since then. I didn't feel comfortable. 

I forced myself to get into my pajamas and slip into my bed, though. It was like I was sleeping on a bed I didn't belong in.