By His Play

25. Effie

25

EFFIE

T he instant the front door slams, I panic.

Surely, he won’t leave.

With my heart in my throat, I jump from the bed and rip my bedroom door open.

As I race toward the living room, I berate myself for being so pathetic.

Knowing Kieran, this is probably a trick and he’ll be standing at the front door, aware that hearing it slam would have forced me into action.

Dread and excitement collide as I round the corner, but as soon as the hallway beyond comes into view, I realize I’m wrong.

This isn’t a game. He really has left.

My chest tightens painfully as the silence around me becomes deafening.

“No,” I breathe. “No, please.”

Wrapping my arms around myself, I stand there staring, begging for him to come back and pull me into his arms, promising me that everything is going to be okay. That us sleeping together wasn’t the worst possible thing we could have done last night.

Kieran has always been my closest friend. But now we’re even closer than ever, and I’m terrified it’s going to rip us apart.

A sob erupts from my sore throat and my eyes burn as more tears spill free.

I’m so fed up with crying, of being sad, but I can’t shake it off.

It’s all-consuming and has engulfed every single inch of me.

Numbly, I pad through the house with dread sitting heavy in my stomach.

Ignoring my bedroom, I continue toward the guest room. With my heart in my throat, I reach for the door handle and throw it open.

My eyes don’t immediately lift. I’m too scared.

Memories of the last time I stood here eavesdropping on Kieran’s conversation with his mother come back to me, and it does little for my emotional state.

He doesn’t love you, Effie. Last night—and this morning—didn’t mean anything to him.

He doesn’t do relationships.

Not that I want one right now.

I can barely look after myself. There is no way I could give someone else the attention and care they deserve.

Sucking in a deep breath, I count to three and then drag my eyes from the floor.

I need to know how badly I’ve fucked everything up.

All the air comes rushing from my lungs, and I stumble forward at the sight of his things still here.

He hasn’t left.

“Oh my god,” I sigh, continuing toward the bed and gathering up one of his hoodies on the way.

Crawling onto the bed, I lift the fabric to my face and inhale.

Everything between us might be up in the air right now, but he is still the best thing about my life.

Always has been, always will be.

I wake still clutching his hoodie. My eyes are so sore when I drag them open and look around.

It takes me a second to recognize where I am, and then another for the pain to hit.

Surely, it can’t always be this bad?

Rolling onto my back, I stare up at the ceiling, still clinging to the little bit of Kieran I have.

I have no idea where he is or how long he’ll be gone.

For all I know, he’s just gone to the store. But deep down, I know that’s not true. He’d be back already.

Despite the sleep I’ve had, my legs are still weak as I stumble down the hallway to the bathroom.

If I didn’t know better, I’d say I was drunk. I might have had some vodka last night on an empty stomach, but I find it hard to believe it could still be affecting me.

I pee before washing my hands and pulling Kieran’s hoodie on.

I should let him go and put my own clothes on, but I can’t. His scent provides me with too much security and warmth.

The coffee and breakfast he made me are still sitting at my place in the kitchen. His is also only half-finished.

My stomach knots. He couldn’t eat because of me. Kieran always eats. Some might argue too much.

A sad smile spreads across my lips as I think about him and his insatiable appetite, but it quickly drops.

Last night, he was…he was something else.?

And the way he made me feel…?

My hand instinctively lifts to my throat.?

With a sigh, I pull a mug from the cupboard and place it under the coffee machine.

Once it’s full, I take it and unlock the backdoor.

My dark mood lifts slightly as I walk through Grams’ garden.

This was her favorite place. She used to spend hours tending to her flowers.

I’ve tried to do some weeding and make it look as beautiful as I remember it, but I haven’t exactly done a good job.

Most of the flowers are looking a little sad. They weren’t pruned like they should have been at the end of last summer, and they haven’t come back. The bushes are overgrown despite my attempts to keep on top of them, and there are weeds everywhere. The problem is, I don’t actually know which are weeds and which are flowers.

Gardening is not my forte. Much like cooking. And I’m not a very good cleaner, either.

Honestly, it’s no surprise Kieran doesn’t want to be with me. I’d be a shitty wife.

Making my way to the bottom of the yard, I squeeze through the arch that used to be cut so perfectly to get to the swing seat that hides down here.

Gramps made it when I was little. He and Grams used to spend all their evenings down here together. It was their happy place.

My eyes close as I think about the life they used to live before I curl up on the seat.

The cushions are in the shed, so it’s not the most comfortable place to sit, but I don’t care.

Pulling my knees up to my chest, I pull Kieran’s hoodie over them and hold my mug in both hands.

A heavy sigh falls from my lips as the weight of the world presses down on me.

The sun beams down, but I barely feel the heat from it. Inside, I’m too cold. The birds overhead tweet their songs, but I don’t hear it.

The world continues spinning around me, everyone else going about their lives, and yet I’m here, stuck in my own misery with no sign of a way out.

“ E ffie?”

I blink, the brightness making my eyes water.

I wince, and my face hurts.

What the?—

“Effie?”

My breath catches at the sound of his voice.

He came back.

“Effie, where are you?” he calls.

He’s getting closer.

My heart rate increases at the prospect of seeing him. Of looking him in the eye and trying not to remember how he looked between my thighs last night.

“Effie, you’re starting to—” He bursts through the small gap that hides this part of the yard from the house, and he visibly relaxes. “Scare me.” His expression softens as he looks down at me, but it only lasts for a couple of seconds. “We need to get you inside,” he states firmly, making my brows pinch.

My face stings at the move, but I don’t think anything of it.

“Effie,” he warns, stepping forward and reaching for me.

Panicking, I sit up and shift to the other end of the seat.

I glance up. Hurt covers Kieran’s face.

“Luck, you’re sunburned. You need to get inside right now,” he explains.

My mouth opens to argue, but my eyes catch sight of my bare legs.

Shit.

Reaching up, I press the backs of my fingers to my cheek.

It’s red hot.

And I’m in the direct line of the sun.

Reaching down, he picks up my mostly untouched coffee and then holds his hand out for me.

I stare at it. Previously, I wouldn’t have stopped to question it.

But now…everything is different.

“Effie?” he whispers, his eyes boring into the top of my head.

I swallow, trying to force down the lump of messy emotion that’s crawled up my throat, but nothing happens.

“Please, Luck. Let me look after you.”

A fire ignites inside me and I surge to my feet.

“I think you did more than enough of that last night, don’t you?” I snap, placing my hand on my hips and glaring at him.

His lips press into a thin line as his eyes narrow.

“Are you serious? All I’ve done since I got here is try to help. Sure, I’m not perfect, and I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing, but I’m trying my best. Last night…last night…”

Ripping his eyes from mine, he stares up at the clear blue sky as he tries to find his words.

The air crackles between us, and my skin prickles as I wait for what he’s going to say next.

Finally, he lowers his face and his eyes find mine. His expression has softened, and it makes my stomach knot.

I preferred the anger. I could deal with the anger. I could meet it head on and give as good as I got.

The softness, the compassion…

“You were drowning, Effie. I either let you drink that entire bottle of vodka or...so, I did something. Was it the best option? I don’t know. But it worked. For those few hours, you forgot. For the first time in…a while, I saw you, Effie. I saw your colors. Hell,” he laughs, rubbing his jaw, “you were in fucking technicolor. It was?—”

Surging forward, I reach up and press my fingers to his lips.

“Don’t,” I warn, my face heating. The only saving grace is that he won’t be able to see it with the sunburn.

His mouth opens, but thankfully, no words emerge.

Instead, he wraps his fingers around my wrist and tugs my hand away from his face.

“Come on, you need moisturizer.”

With my hand locked in his, he drags me up the yard and into the house.

The second we step inside and into the cool, I realize just how bad things are.

He doesn’t stop until we’re in the living room, and then he turns around, staring down at me. His bright green eyes are darker than I’m used to. They’re…they’re like they were last night as he gazed down at me.

“Sit down,” he demands before rushing out of the room, leaving me sitting there with my head spinning.

He crashes around in the bathroom for a few minutes before his heavy footsteps get closer.

Coming to a stop before me, he lowers his ass to the coffee table and flips open the tub of Aftersun.

“Oh no, no, no,” I start, attempting to get away from him, but he’s having none of it.

Reaching down, he wraps his hand around my ankle and lifts it to his lap.

“Kieran, really. I can do this myself,” I argue, trying to pull my leg away, but he’s holding me too tightly.

“Luck,” he growls before lifting his eyes from my leg and holding mine captive. I feel it all the way to my core. “I thought you were my good girl.”