Page 53 of By His Play

“Here we are,” she says.

My feet stop moving of their own accord, and when I look up, I find she’s right.

It took us quite a bit of time to find this place, but it’s perfect.

Quiet and secluded.

Even if someone saw us jumping over the closed fence, there’s only a slim chance they’d find us here.

Effie lowers herself to the leaf-covered ground. She doesn’t care that she might get a little muddy, or that there are bugs down there. Effie isn’t like any of the women I spend time with. She doesn’t care if her makeup is on point or not, or if the dress or shoes she’s wearing are designer. There is no fakeness or pretense; she’s always just one hundred perfect herself. I love it, and I wish there were more people like her.

“Are you joining me or…” Effie trails off as she gazes up at me.

The sight of her puffy eyes is exactly what I need to drag me back to reality.

“Of course,” I say as I drop to the ground. “Hungry?”

She wants to say no, I can hear the refusal dancing on the tip of her tongue, but she fights it.

“Yeah,” she muses, making me smile.

Pulling her sub from the bag, I pass it over and watch as she unwraps it.

After a few seconds, I drag my eyes away and do the same. The only difference is that I instantly devour mine like I haven’t eaten for a month, not just a few hours, while she nibbles at hers.

Once I’m done, I ball up the paper bag and lie back on the leaves.

It’s dark, and the trees above us almost completely cover the sky, but every now and then, the wind blows, revealing some stars.

There’s nothing but silence between us, and while I might still be feeling weird about that little moment between us earlier, it’s not uncomfortable.

I replay the events of the day, thinking about the vast differences in the reactions of everyone she spoke to.

Her father being the worst of them.

Anger pulses through my veins as I think of his dismissive tone.

If I ever get the chance to become a father, there is no way on Earth I would ever speak to my child like that. Hell, I wouldn’t even speak to someone else’s child like that.

I give Prince more respect, and he’s just a baby.

But then there were Grams' friends and neighbors. All of them were so sweet and supportive of Effie, offering to help in any way they could.

That’s what it should be like. In hard times like this, people should come together. I know it took me longer than it should have to get here. But I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere. And I’m hoping that when I do, Effie will be coming with me to return to her life in Chicago.

As much as I’d like to think that she’ll be able to walk away from all this after the funeral, I’m not sure it’s very realistic. Her heart is here in St. Louis right now, and it’s broken beyond belief.

She needs to figure out how to put it back together before considering returning to work.

She’s barely finished a quarter of her sub when she wraps it back up and puts it in the bag.

With a sigh I feel all the way down to my toes, she lies back with me.

“I know that losing someone is meant to hurt. But this…I never thought it would be like this,” she confesses quietly. “I’ve never felt anything like it. It’s…excruciating.”

I don’t respond. How can I? Everything I could say to that would sound patronizing. As much as I can sympathize with her, I don’t really know what she’s feeling right now.

All I can do is just be here.

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