25
EFFIE
The 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.