I flung a dark purple, knee-high boot behind me with a frustrated growl. Its mate soon followed. I sent a pair of black pumps flying. They hit the opposite wall with a thud.

“Hey!” Abby cried.

I jumped, turning to find her standing in the hallway, front door half-open. The shoes had hit the door, not the wall.

“You almost killed me with those,” she said.

“Sorry,” I muttered. I leaned back on my heels and let out a disheartened sigh. “I didn’t mean to throw shit at you.”

“Is there a reason why the front closet looks like a war zone?” she asked, closing the door firmly behind her.

“I’m looking for my red stilettos,” I said, annoyed. “I haven’t seen them in months.”

“So you needed to toss everything from the closet into the hallway?” she asked doubtfully.

I rubbed a hand against my forehead, trying to smooth the creases. The beginnings of a headache pounded at my temples.

“Sorry,” I murmured. “I’m in a bad mood.”

“What happened?” she asked, concerned. She set her school bag on the sofa and came over to where I was kneeling in front of the closet. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not,” she said gently. “You’re making that face. Something’s bothering you.”

“I don’t really feel like getting into it right now.”

“Does it have to do with Julian?” she asked.

I whipped my head up to gape at her. She rubbed my back.

“I know you, Ev,” she said. “You don’t let much get to you. The only time I’ve seen you this upset was when Julian left the band, and when all that stuff was going down with Keith.” Her eyes went wide. “You haven’t heard from Keith again, have you?”

I frowned, hating to hear that asshole’s name.

“No,” I said, then amended so it wasn’t a lie. “Not recently.”

I shifted my gaze back to the closet. Nearly everything had been tossed on the floor. I really had destroyed it.

“Sorry about the mess,” I said. “I’ll clean it up.”

“Forget about the mess,” Abby replied. “Let’s go get a cup of tea, okay?”

I followed Abby to the kitchen where she turned on the kettle. She took out my favorite calming chamomile and vanilla. I slumped into a chair. I couldn’t stop my toe from jiggling nervously under the table.

Abby side-eyed me but didn’t mention my nervous tick. She poured the both of us a cup and sat mine down in front of me, then pulled up her chair and dragged it until our knees could almost touch. She waited until I’d taken a few careful sips, trying not to burn my tongue, before speaking again.

“So what’s up?” she asked.

“It’s nothing,” I murmured, blowing on the tea to cool it down.

“It’s something,” she countered. “Talk to me.”

Her request was so similar to what I’d asked of Julian. I knew how it felt to watch someone clam up and refuse to talk about something important. I knew how it hurt to feel like you weren’t trusted enough.

“Julian and I had a fight,” I said.

Abby made a sound of sympathy. She circled her arm around mine and rested her head against my shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I know you guys were finally starting to work through things again.”

“I just don’t understand him.” I set down my cup before my trembling hands could spill the hot liquid inside. “Maybe I never will. Maybe I never did.”

“That’s not true,” Abby said. “Aside from Seth, you’re probably the only other person in the world who does understand Julian Woods.”

“I thought we were getting so close,” I said. “I thought we’d finally fixed things, that everything could go back to the way it was before. But it turns out I didn’t understand him that well, even back then.”

“What didn’t you understand?” she asked.

I couldn’t tell Abby the whole story. I didn’t want to betray Julian’s privacy.

I played with the mug, using the handle to spin it back and forth, watching the tea slosh around. It looked like a mini tornado, reflecting the turmoil raging inside me.

“I found out that he’s been keeping something from me,” I said. “I thought I knew everything about him. I guess I didn’t.”

“Is it that important?” Abby asked. “Everyone has secrets. Everyone has things they’d rather not tell anyone else.”

“This is different,” I insisted. “We’re supposed to be together. We’re a couple. We’re not supposed to keep secrets from each other. We’re supposed to be learning to communicate like adults. We’re supposed to be more mature now.”

I stopped my rant as I realized I’d spun the cup so aggressively the tea had splashed over the edge, droplets dotting the table. I used my sleeve to wipe it up.

“Well,” Abby said thoughtfully, “you’re keeping a secret from him, aren’t you?”

I stilled. “What do you mean?”

“You haven’t told him the whole story about Keith, have you?”

I squirmed, uncomfortable, and rubbed at the wet spots on my sleeve.

“How do you know that?” I asked her.

Her lips twitched upward, almost amused.

“Because Keith is still alive,” she replied.

I let out a laugh despite myself.

“You can’t be mad at Julian for keeping secrets if you’re doing the same thing,” Abby said reasonably.

“I’m just not ready to tell him.” I looked down into my tea, the surface now calm and serene. “I don’t want him to think differently of me.”

“Do you really think he will?” Abby asked.

I exhaled loudly, feeling defeated.

“I guess I just don’t feel secure enough in our relationship yet,” I admitted.

“Did you ever wonder if maybe that’s the reason why he hasn’t told you?”

I paused, taking in her words.

Was that the reason? Was Julian worried I’d think differently about him if he told me about his past? I didn’t think that was possible. I loved him. Nothing would change that. He could tell me anything and it wouldn’t change my feelings for him.

But did he know that?

Did he feel secure enough in our relationship?

Did he feel safe enough?

I wrapped my arms around Abby and pulled her into a hug, smushing our cheeks together. She let out a cough as I squeezed her too tight.

“When did you get so smart?” I asked.

“I’ve always been the smart one,” she said. “It’s the one thing I’ve got going for me.”

I pulled back and took her by the shoulders, forcing her to look at me.

“You know that’s not true,” I admonished.

“You’re the cool, outgoing, successful one, not me.” Abby shrugged. “It’s fine. I’m okay with being the bookworm little sister.”

“That’s not all you are,” I told her. “You’re kind and patient and you’ve always put up with all my shit.”

“You do always tend to have a lot of shit going on,” she agreed.

I mocked punched her in the shoulder, then threw her a smile.

“Thank you,” I told her. “You’ve been a big help.”

“If only you and Julian could talk things out easily as you and I can,” she said.

“You’re right,” I said. “There’s nothing we keep from each other.”

She averted her gaze, looking down at her tea and taking a sip.

“Yeah,” she said. “We tell each other everything.”

I brought our heads together. “You know you can talk to me about anything, right?”

She gave me a small smile. “I know.” Then it was her turn to punch me in the shoulder. “Now you know what you have to do, right?”

I needed to show Julian that nothing he told me would change how I felt. I needed him to be secure enough in our relationship to tell me about his past. I needed him to feel safe with me.

Now I just had to figure out a way to prove to him that he was.