Page 156 of By His Play

But it would be the wrong thing to do.

She may be taking responsibility for landing us here, and sure, our fake engagement is on her, but things between us...they’re on me.

I was the one who came up with that idea.

It was a good fucking idea. But…

Fuck.

Lifting my hand, I rub at my chest.

Not knowing what else to do, I take a step back, putting some space between us.

It’s not until I’m standing in the doorway that I speak again.

“Have I…have I broken us?”

Effie hangs her head. “No. I was broken long before you arrived in St. Louis.”

“I refuse to accept that. You’re perfect.”

A laugh bursts out of her.

“Go out with the guys tonight. Blow off steam. Be…be Kieran Callahan.”

“Fuck, Effie,” I say, rubbing the back of my neck.

“I’ll see you soon, okay?”

I take two more steps back, my heart pounding so hard in my chest I’m sure it’s about to explode.

“I…I love you, Effie. Don’t ever forget that.”

And before I break down and refuse to do as she’s asked, I take off. I’m almost at the end of the hallway when I hear her reply.

“I love you too, Kieran. Always.”

I take one last look around Grams’ house before snatching the bag I’d left in the living room before we went to the hotel yesterday, and I walk out with my head held high despite the fact I’m falling apart inside.

As soon as I close the car door behind me, a huge rush of air passes my lips, and I lean forward, resting my forehead against the wheel.

I suck in ragged breaths, hoping the pain in my chest will subside.

But it doesn’t. If anything, it only gets worse.

I don’t know how long I sit there for, but time doesn’t matter. It doesn’t change anything.

Nothing is going to change this.

Sitting up, I look at the house again as fond memories flicker through my mind. So many of my favorite times happened here with Effie, both as kids and in the last few weeks.

Pressing my hand to my chest, I rub the spot directly over my heart in the hope of soothing the ache.

But it does fuck all.

Something tells me that nothing will.

Movement inside the house catches my eye, and I stare through the window into the guest room—my room. She never comes to the window, but I know she’s there watching me.

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