Page 42 of By His Play

“I’m so sorry, Effie. I’m so fucking sorry.”

As much as I appreciate his support, the words don’t really mean anything.

None of this is his fault. There was also nothing he could do to prevent it.

I let out a shaky breath, but it does little to calm the riot of emotions raging within me.

“Tell me what you need,” he whispers. “I’ll do it. Whatever you need.”

The room falls silent around us as I try to get my brain to function, but there is only one thing I need right now.

“I need to go there. I-I n-need to?—”

“Okay,” he agrees before I’ve even been able to tell him. “You get dressed, and I’ll go and grab my sneakers.”

“No,” I cry the second he lets go of me and begins to climb from the bed. “Don’t leave me.”

My bottom lip trembles. I fight to stop it, but I have no control.

Stepping forward so his shins hit my bed, he reaches down and takes my face in his hands.

Both of his thumbs wipe away the tears I wasn’t aware were still falling as he stares into my eyes.

He feels my pain; I can see it in his dark depths.

I also know that if he could, he’d take it away from me.

If only that were possible.

“You need pants and a hoodie, Eff,” he tells me.

“B-bottom drawer,” I stutter as I point at my chest of drawers. “Hoodie on the chair.”

He nods once before lowering his lips to my forehead and pressing a sweet kiss on my skin.

I squeeze my eyes closed to try to stop the onslaught of more tears, but it’s pointless. There is no controlling them.

“I know it hurts, Effie. But it’ll get easier. I promise.”

How? How is it ever going to get easier?

I’ve just lost the only parent I’ve ever had. Sure, she was my grandmother, but she was everything. She was my person.

“I’m right here, and I’m not leaving. I’ll be by your side for everything, okay? Lean on me; it’s what I’m here for.”

I nod, unable to force out any words through the gigantic lump in my throat.

He waits for another two seconds before releasing me and walking over to my bottom drawer. He pulls out a pair of grey sweatpants before swiping his old hoodie from my chair and returning.

Deciding that I’m not capable of doing anything, he takes my hands and pulls me to stand.

I’ve always felt tiny compared to him—I mean, I am tiny; there is well over a foot between us—but I’ve never felt it as viscerally as I do in this moment.

“Okay?” he asks as if he’s waiting for me to do something, but I just stand there immobile.

He lets out a sigh, his warm breath rushing over my face and making the hairs on the back of my neck lift as a shiver runs down my spine.

Dropping to his haunches, he tugs my sleep shorts down my legs before tapping one ankle and then the other to free the fabric before replacing them with my sweatpants.

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