By His Play

19. Effie

19

EFFIE

I stand straight with my shoulders back. There have been a few times in my life where I’ve had to put my emotions to one side and pull on my game face, but never more so than today.

My heart is racing, and my palms are sweating.

It’s going to be okay. I know it will.

Today is going to be the kind of day that Grams wanted. But that doesn’t mean it isn’t going to hurt.

The pews behind me are already beginning to fill with people whose lives Grams touched. Many of them I met at the care home when they visited, but there are still loads I’ve never seen before. Knowing that they cared enough about Grams to be here today fills me with pride. She was such an incredible woman; she deserves for everyone to remember her as the selfless, caring person she was.

But the two I’m dreading to see still aren’t here.

I can’t say I’m surprised.

If this were a business meeting, he’d have been here fifteen minutes ago. But this is a family event, so punctuality goes out of the window.

As if he knows exactly where my head is at, Kieran’s hand slides down my back before resting it just above my ass, a warm, strong presence.

I haven’t been able to look him in the eye since this morning.

How he’s acting as if nothing happened is beyond me.

“Effie?” he whispers.

I don’t want to look up.

Hell, I don’t want to be here, dealing with all of this.

But I don’t have any choice.

Woman up, Effie. Things could be worse.

“Ef—” His words are cut off when I finally look up.

My breath catches at the darkness in his eyes. The green that’s usually there has almost been engulfed by it.

“I’m okay,” I whisper weakly, proving that I’m very much not.

His smile is forced and sad.

I love that he’s here with me, but I also can’t help feeling like I’m holding him back from doing something better.

It’s the off-season. He could be on some exotic island spending his days with girls in bikinis and grass skirts. He could be doing charity projects, bringing in much-needed funds for the KC Foundation. Hell, he could just be at home, chilling out.

But no, he’s here wiping my tears and holding me together.

If he didn’t want to be here, he wouldn’t be , a little voice says.

I blow out a long, slow breath as his eyes hold mine captive. Embarrassment stains my cheeks while my chest continues to ache.

As much as we need to deal with what happened this morning, I don’t have the energy or the brain power to even try.

His lips part and my stomach twists with anxiety, but before he manages to get a word out, another voice floats through the air.

“Good afternoon,” my father booms, his deep voice echoing around the modest entrance to the church.

Kieran’s jaw ticks with irritation before he pulls on a mask of his own and turns to face the two people who brought me into the world.

“Mom, Dad,” I greet through gritted teeth.

Neither of them says anything as they look me up and down with distaste.

“What on Earth are you wearing, Effie?” Mom chastises with her nose in the air like she’s something special.

“This is a funeral, not a tea party,” Dad snaps.

My natural reaction would be to slink away and let their comments weigh me down.

But today is different.

Today isn’t about me. And for once, it isn’t about them. It’s about Grams.

If she wanted me to turn up wearing a Teletubbies costume today, I’d have done it just to make her smile.

Holding my head high, I take a step forward.

“Grams specifically requested we all dress in bright colors. A request you both clearly ignored.”

As my father glowers at me and my mother’s mouth drops open in shock, Kieran steps up behind me.

His arm wraps around my back and his hand squeezes my waist in support.

“Mr. and Mrs. Campbell,” he says tersely, holding his hand out for my father to shake.

“Kieran,” Dad greets, although there is no joy in his voice. My brows pinch in confusion. Dad has never cared about anyone other than himself and my mother, so his distaste of Kieran comes as no surprise, but there is a bitterness in his tone I wasn’t expecting. “Am I to assume that you merely forgot to ask my permission?” Dad questions, his brow lifting.

Permission?

Oh.

If I weren’t so shocked by the question, I might be pleasantly surprised that he’s taking some kind of interest in my life.

“My apologies, Mr. Campbell. It was all rather fast,” Kieran explains.

I hate that he does. He doesn’t have to answer to my father.

Not for a single thing.

“Can I assume that it’s the only thing that is going to be rushed when it comes to my daughter? It’s always distasteful to see pregnant women walking down the aisle.”

All the air in my lungs comes rushing out.

“I’m not pregnant,” I hiss, my fists curling at my sides.

“At least that’s something,” Mom starts, but just before she goes to continue, her words are cut off.

“We’re ready to begin when you are,” the reverend says, coming to step up beside us.

“Come on,” Kieran says, taking my hand and leading me away from my parents.

My entire body trembles in anger as we make our way down the aisle.

I look around, trying to focus on Grams and all the reasons why she loved this church.

My parents won’t approve. It’s too small. Too old. Too understated.

But to Grams, it was everything. And being here will bring her back to Gramps. Exactly where she belongs.

Kieran leads me to the very front pew before walking to the end and tugging me down.

Leaning close, he whispers, “Ignore them.”

Blowing out a shaky breath, I turn to look up at him.

“I’m trying,” I confess, my voice barely audible as the organ begins to play.

He gives me a sad smile before a shadow falls over us.

Glancing up, I find Dad with his signature scowl on his face, and no doubt Mom is behind him like the doting wife she is.

Scooting closer, Kieran presses his right side against me and wraps his arm around my shoulder.

Keeping my eyes focused on the lectern, I do my best to ignore the other two in our row.

I expected them to join us. There is no way on Earth that Derek Campbell would sit anywhere but the front row.

The music changes, and the reverend gestures for everyone to rise.

My heart sinks and I close my eyes.

I don’t want to do this.

“ I t was a beautiful service,” one of Grams’ friends says before she leaves. “You did her proud today.” She takes both of my hands in hers and squeezes tightly.

The ball of emotion only grows larger in my throat as my nose itches and my eyes burn.

“Thank you,” I whisper, barely able to force the words out.

She pulls me in for a hug, and it’s all I can do to hold myself together.

Today has been a lot. I’m not sure I’ve ever been so drained. Both physically and emotionally.

Every inch of me hurts. All I want to do is curl up in a ball and fall asleep.

If only I could.

I can count on one hand the number of full hours of sleep I’ve had this week. I’m feeling it today.

The older lady—Rosa, I think—releases me and gives me a soft smile.

“Get some rest.”

I will, I mouth.

Turning to Kieran, who’s still exactly where he promised he would be—right by my side—she looks up at him.

“Look after her,” Rosa instructs.

“Don’t worry. I intend to,” he assures her before also accepting a hug.

Seems like it’s not only the young women my best friend has a way with. He can wrap the elderly ones around his little finger too.

We say a few more goodbyes before we close the door to the church hall.

Thankfully, Mom and Dad left not long after the committal.

I’d hoped they might have stayed a little longer. Introduced themselves to Grams’ friends. But it was always unlikely.

I should be grateful they turned up at all.

“Right,” I say, finding some strength from the very depth of my soul. “I guess we’ve got some cleaning up to do.”

Empty glasses and plates litter the tables from our buffet. The thought of having to tidy it all up makes me want to cry—again.

“No.”

Spinning around, I narrow my eyes at Kieran as he closes the space between us.

My heart begins to race and my temperature rises.

“W-what do you m-mean, no?” I ask quietly.

“I’ve booked some cleaners to come in and take care of it,” he confesses. “You’ve done enough.”

Ripping my eyes from his, I take in the room around us.

“Really?”

“Really,” he says softly. “Let me take you home.”

The sob I was desperately trying to hold back erupts and he pulls me into his arms.

Any awkwardness from this morning has gone, and I couldn’t be more grateful.

His arms engulf me, and a heavy sigh falls from my lips as I cling onto him.

“It’s okay, Effie. I’ve got you,” he says softly, his lips in my hair as he holds me tighter. “I promise. I’ve got you.”

Unable to hold it together any longer, I fall apart in Kieran’s arms again.

He doesn’t release me for even a second. I couldn’t love him more.

He is hands-down the best friend anyone could ask for.

As my sobs and tears subside, reality begins to slip back in.

The scent of his cologne and the hardness of his chest that I’m pressed against make itself known, distracting me from the grief for a few blissful seconds.

“Kieran?” I whisper before pulling my tear-stained face from his chest and looking up at him.

My vision is blurry, but it doesn’t matter. He’s still as devastatingly beautiful as ever.

He stares down at me with his dark eyes. His tongue sneaks out and runs along his full bottom lip, and my stomach tumbles.

This morning comes flooding back, and I can’t deny that there was a moment when I first woke up where I wanted more.

I wanted him to turn around, take me in his arms, and kiss me.

Make everything else in my life disappear. Just for a few moments.

My heart slams against my ribs as time seems to cease.

Without any thought, I stretch up a little, attempting to lose the space between us.

I swear, I’m not the only one who moves. I’m sure he lowers toward me.

Kiss me.

Please.

I close my eyes, waiting for that moment when our lips touch.

But it never comes.