Secrets

“Molly,” I call as we walk down the hotel hallway toward the rooms that we’ve been assigned. “Come on, please talk to me.”

She ignores me for the millionth time before sliding her key card into the lock slot and entering her room, letting the door fall closed behind her.

I let out a sigh and run a hand through my curls. More than anything, I want to talk to Molly about what the boys and I overheard.

But no. She keeps ignoring me and avoiding any questions that I try to ask her. It’s irritating, but I’m trying my best to keep my calm and try to ease the talking out of her.

“Still keeping her gob shut, eh?” Louis asks as I walk into the hotel room that he and I are sharing.

Niall, Liam, and Zayn are across the hall in a slightly bigger room with a cot next to the window so no one has to share beds. Mostly because Niall kicks in his sleep, and last time he and Liam shared a bed, Liam ended up with a massive bruise on his shin that took what seemed like forever before it disappeared.

“Yeah, I can’t get anything out of her,” I sigh. “I wish that there was something I could say to make her open up.” I leave out the part of the thought where I debated sitting outside her room and knocking until she finally caved to talking to me.

Louis shrugs and takes a sip of the tea that is resting in his hand. “Just give her time. She’s probably really overwhelmed about the fact that we heard her talk about what was probably the most traumatic experience of her life.”

I gnaw on the inside of my cheek as I throw myself down on the bed and sigh. “You might say that, but think about it. What would you do if you walked in on Eleanor talking about how she was sexually abused by her brother?”

Louis’ cheeks turn pink with embarrassment and anger as he thinks about what he would do if his girlfriend was in Molly’s position. “You have a point,” he finally admits, shaking his head, as if the idea will fall from his mind.

“Exactly.” I start to chew on my lip again as my eyes stare off into the distance, not focusing on anything in particular. “I just wish I knew what to do. If this was a book or a movie or something, I’d know what to do or what to say.”

“But it’s not, mate,” Louis tells me matter-of-factly as he gets to his feet to put his empty mug in the sink. “Don’t worry. Everything will work out. She just has to cool off.”

For a few hours, I bum around the hotel room, watching some telly, listening to music, thinking about Molly.

Finally, after I think I’ve given her enough time, I walk down to her room, my hands stuffed in my pockets, my eyes fixed on the ground.

“Hey, what are you doing?” Liam’s voice interrupts my drive.

I look up at him and blink a couple of times, confused. “Going to talk to Molly.”

Liam gives me his Daddy Direction face, and I instantly shrink back a little. “Harry, come on. She needs her space.”

I remember the face Louis made when I brought up Eleanor, so I use the same thing for Liam. “What if Danielle was in this situation?” I suggest softly. “Wouldn’t you want her to talk to you about the problem instead of ignoring it?”

Liam ponders for a long moment, staring me down, knowing that I’m right but not wanting to admit it. “I guess,” he finally allows. “But you have to realize that it’s her problem that she has to deal with. Not yours.”

“She doesn’t have to deal with it alone, though,” I argue, side-stepping him. “That’s what I’m here for. What’s the point of a boyfriend if she can’t confide in me and cry on my shoulder, and I can’t make her feel better?”

Liam stares at me for a second before shaking his head, a slight smirk playing on the corner of his mouth. “Wow, Harry. I never knew you were such a caring boyfriend.”

“I never used to be,” I laugh.

He understands what I mean and lets the reality hang in the air as I make my way around him and down the hallway to Molly’s room.

I knock a couple of times, possibly a little too hard with my anticipation. The silence that follows is agonizing, and it takes every ounce of willpower in my body to keep from knocking again.

Finally, the door opens, and Molly’s standing there. Her eyes are red and puffy, as is her face. It’s obvious that she’s been crying since I left her.

“Can we talk?” I ask in a gentle voice, taking a step forward to let her know that she doesn’t really have much of a choice.

She sniffles in response, which isn’t much of a yes or a no. But finally, she steps to the side, admitting me to the room, giving me a definite invitation to discuss her issues.