Lizzie just nodded when Mao said he couldn’t tell her everything. She was sure there were some things she couldn’t know, but she didn’t know if keeping yet another secret was the way forward. Mao seemed vulnerable and sensitive enough as it was, though, so she just kept her mouth shut for now about that: there wasn’t any point upsetting Mao even more.If she thought it would help later, she might mention it, but for now she just agreed to keep quiet, not say anything to anyone. “I won’t tell anyone,” she promised sincerely, because she always kept her promises.
She swallowed past the lump in her throat that formed as Mao started talking, partly from her own hurt at knowing that Luke had been doing this stuff and all the while letting her think that maybe... She just breathed in slowly, rubbed underneath one eye like that would stop it from burning and listened. Her heart hurt for Mao, for herself, for Luke, for the outcome of this inevitably fucked up situation. Secrecy always came out badly, particularly when there were other people involved and those people never usually deserved to be caught up in the middle of it all. She hated that she’d been trapped in the middle of this, but at the same time she wasn’t about to let Mao just be alone. That wasn’t fair. She wasn’t going to be that person. She might not be able to help much, but a little was better than nothing, right?
“I knew about the fight,” she managed to say, but fell quiet again because Mao was just talking. It was like a torrent, someone had finally loosened the screw or something and it was all gushing out. She listened to the other side of the spotty story she’d gotten from Luke, half of this stuff she hadn’t know, she hadn’t known about the kisses (two? Luke had said one, he’d lied to her again). That betrayal stung in her again, lashing out inside her. She felt like a cat, coiled and tight just before it pounced, tail whipping from side to side in an attempt to contain everything.
It had taken a lot of restraint not to pull Mao into her arms as he was talking, but when he broke down again at the end of the story - God, and he’d been happy, and it was just fucked and now... - she shuffled closer and wrapped her arms around him, tugging him into a hug whether he wanted one or not. “Ssh,” she murmured, rubbing his back soothingly. She’d been like this last night, curled up in Max’s arms and crying for all the hurt that she felt for what felt like a betrayal. For her own freaking stupidity. She looked up, her own eyes burning again as she tightened her hug a fraction. “I didn’t realise it had been going on for so long,” she admitted softly, words weak because the lump in her throat wanted to make her cry too. She closed her eyes, took a few shaky breaths. Don’t do it, Lizzie.
“It’s not your fault, not entirely,” she murmured, “But you know you shoulda told James, just like Luke should have told me.” She felt like she could maybe understand most of the sides here: she was a best friend that had been betrayed and lied to, and a- well, whatever else she’d been to Luke that had been played for a fool. Maybe Luke had never meant to hurt anyone, she didn’t think he had, really, he just hadn’t thought. “But I guess I can kind of see why you didn’t. I mean- it- you didn’t wanna jinx it right? But- we-” She wet her lower lip and just squeezed Mao tighter. “I’m so sorry, Mao.”