By His Play

57. Effie

57

EFFIE

T he first time my cell rings, I don’t bother looking at it.

I already know it won’t be Kieran.

Not that I’d actually want to talk to him if he did call me.

Right now, I’d happily never speak to him again.

I sit curled up on my couch with my legs pulled up to my chest and my arms wrapped around them.

My eyes are puffy and sore from crying, and my heart feels like it’s been ripped out of my chest and stomped on, but despite the hurt, the anger still simmers beneath the surface.

How dare he talk to me like that?

But then another memory slams into me.

“I was going to tell you that I’ve fallen in love with you tonight.”

Another sob erupts as I remember his words so vividly.

He was going to tell me exactly what I wanted to tell him.

Any excitement or fear I was feeling over the changes in our relationship have vanished. There is nothing but agony in its wake.

How could he think I was dating Brax?

I thought he knew me better than that.

If I wanted Brax, I could have done something about it a long time ago.

Just like you could have with Kieran , a little voice pipes up.

When my cell begins ringing for a second time, I reach out and turn it over to see who it is.

My breath catches when I find Brax’s smiling face filling my screen.

The tears I thought I’d run out of fill my eyes all over again.

All he’s been is a good friend.

Sure, we might have been captured looking more intimate that we actually were last night. But that’s just the media. Kieran knows all too well how they can spin things to suit them and their story.

I blow out a long, slow breath.

Brax knows that we should be out on our big date right now.

If he’s ringing, it’s because he knows something has gone wrong.

My stomach knots.

Did Kieran go to him first? Or was it his next stop after here?

“Shit,” I hiss when the call rings off.

Brax is a good person. A really good person.

If he knows, then he won’t let it go. Not until he’s confident I’m okay.

It takes two minutes for him to try again. And this time, I lift my cell up. My thumb hovers over the screen to connect the call.

I really don’t want to talk to anyone. The instant he hears my voice, he’ll know just how bad it is.

Aware that if I don’t respond, he’ll probably turn up at my door demanding answers, I reluctantly accept the call and put it on speaker. I don’t have the energy to hold it up.

“Hey,” I croak.

“Effie, I’m so fucking sorry.”

A sad laugh falls from my lips.

“None of this is your fault. You don’t owe anyone an apology.”

“I should have been more careful. I should have been keeping you away from the media and?—”

“Brax, stop. None of it matters.”

A heavy sigh fills the line.

“No, I guess you’re right.” Silence falls for a few seconds. “How bad was it?” Brax finally asks.

I cringe.

“You know what Kieran is like,” I say in an attempt to play it down.

Over the years, I’ve learned just how hot-headed my best friend can be. But usually, I’m the one talking him down instead of on the wrong end of his temper.

Or at least, not until recently.

“What did he say to you?”

I shake my head, fresh tears burning my eyes again.

“It doesn’t matter. He was angry, said some stuff I’m sure he’s already regretting. I assume you’ve seen him?”

“Yeah.”

“And…” I prompt.

“And same as you. Not sure he’s regretting it all that much, though.”

I let my head fall back and close my eyes.

My life used to be so simple and quiet.

What happened?

Kieran happened.

“Do you need company?” Brax offers.

“Not sure that’s a good idea.”

“Effie.” He sighs. “I’m your friend. We both know there is nothing going on. As you said earlier, we haven’t done anything wrong.”

“I’m okay. Promise.” It’s a lie, and we both know it. I might have stood a chance at convincing him if my voice didn’t crack, but that’s not what just happened.

“Effie.”

“Seriously. I’m just going to have an early night. Things might look brighter in the morning.”

“I hate this,” Brax says quietly.

“I know. Me too. But there isn’t a lot we can do about it. I’ll speak to you soon, okay?”

“Okay. Effie?” he says quickly before I kill the call.“Everything will work out.”

“Of course. Night, Brax.”

I cut the call and sink back into the couch.

Everything hurts. Every single inch of me.

A t some point, I managed to drag my ass to bed last night. But that doesn’t mean I got any sleep.

All night, I tossed and turned, replaying the events of the evening over and over in my head.

It was meant to be so incredible.

We were going to have good food, a few drinks, and then…

The sun might have risen on a new day, but nothing feels better.

If anything, it all feels worse with every hour that has passed.

The pain, the anger, the disbelief only grows.

How could he think those things of me?

He was mad, I get that. But shit.

He was cruel.

I hope he’s regretting it. But there’s a part of me that wonders if he does.

Was last night the final straw? Did it just remind him of why he doesn’t do relationships? Not that what we had could be described as one. If anything, it was a car crash.

A fucking disaster.

You never should have let him kiss you in Grams' kitchen.

We knew taking things to the next level was a risk. But I never thought we’d end up here.

Hurting.

My head pounds as I push myself out of bed. I didn’t drink a sip of alcohol last night, but I feel hungover.

I pad through to my bathroom to freshen up before grabbing a hoodie from my closet and heading to the kitchen for coffee.

With a bit of luck, it’ll help bring me back to life.

Despite the sun already being high in the sky, illuminating the city in a beautiful warm glow, I don’t really see it.

Everything is gray and muted.

I start the coffee machine and jump up on the counter as I wait for it.

Was coming back here a huge mistake?

Maybe I should start over.

I never figured out how that would look. My notebook still sits mostly empty. But maybe it was the best option.

I don’t move from the counter. Instead, I sit there with the cold from the granite top working through my body.

It’s not until I’ve made my second cup that I finally hop down. After locating my notebook of ideas that I’d left to fester in my suitcase, I curl back up on the couch and stare down at the page.

I can’t help but laugh.

The ideas I wrote down are ridiculous.

Flipping the page, I find my pros and cons list for coming back or staying in St. Louis.

I scan down the list.

Right now, St. Louis is tempting.

A nice quiet and empty house. No pressure of work. No hustle and bustle of the city.

No Kieran…

Even with all of this up in the air, could I really live anywhere without him?

No matter what happens between us, he’ll forever be my person.

Lifting my hand to wipe a tear away, I stare out at the stadium.

This place will forever be his home. And that means, it needs to be mine.

I can’t leave him.

No matter how vile the words are he says to me. No matter how hard things get or how badly my heart hurts.

I just can’t do it.

The sound of my buzzer rips through the air and I startle.

My heart jumps into my throat, and for hopeful seconds, I think he’s come back.

Placing my empty mug on the coffee table, I race toward the console at the front door that will allow me to hear his voice.

My hand trembles as I press the button.

“Hello?” I say in a rush, desperate to hear his voice.

Please, please be him.

“Morning,” a deep voice sings, and while it might be familiar, it isn’t the one I really want.

A pained breath escapes as I take a step back, my shoulders sagging in disappointment.

“Effie?” he questions when I don’t respond. “Shit. You thought it was Kieran, didn’t you?”

“N-no,” I lie. “Come on up.”

I’m vaguely aware that I should probably refuse and send him away.

It’s probably stupid to think that Kieran might be watching, trying to confirm what he already thinks he knows, but I can’t help but be suspicious.

It doesn’t stop me from hitting the button that will allow Brax entry to the building, though.

I leave the door open for him and walk into the kitchen to wash my mug and restart the coffee machine.

“No need for that,” he says after his heavy footsteps move through my apartment. “I brought coffee and pastry.”

A smile pulls at my lips before I spin around and look at him.

“Oh my god,” I cry. “Brax, what the hell?”

Racing over, I stretch up on my toes to get a better look at his swollen eye.

“Tell me he didn’t,” I beg.

Brax shrugs one shoulder. “It’s nothing. Barely even hurts.”

“Bullshit,” I snap. “Your eye hardly opens.”

“Okay, fine, it’s a little tender. You should see him, though.”

My breath catches at the insinuation that they’ve been physically fighting.

I can’t remember the last time Kieran got into a physical altercation, but it has been known to happen in the past. Brax, though, doesn’t scream brawler.

I have, however, been known to be wrong in the past.

Concern for Kieran rushes through me, and I reach for Brax’s hands as he places the takeout tray and paper bag on the counter.

I breathe a sigh of relief when I don’t find any evidence of him hitting anyone.

“I’m joking. Kieran is fine.”

Irritation rolls through me that Brax has been dragged into this bullshit and ended up hurt.

“You should have hit him. He deserves it,” I mutter.

No, I don’t really want them fighting. But I can’t help the small, violent part of me that wants Kieran to be hurting just as much as I am right now.

“He’s an asshole. I won’t deny that.” Brax laughs. “Have you spoken to him?”

I shake my head. “Nope. And I have no intention of doing so for quite a while.”

“Go on then,” he says after passing me my coffee and bag of pastries. “Tell me everything.”