Page 29 of By His Play

8

EFFIE

Waking up alone is normal. Even with Kieran spending the night with me, I never expect him to still be here.

I wish he was, though.

I’ve never felt lonelier than I do in the mornings here.

I was so used to waking to the sounds and smells of Grams. The emptiness, the silence. It’s painful. I feel it right in the pit of my soul.

Having Kieran here has been such a relief. But I can’t help needing more.

With a sigh, I throw the covers back, pull on one of Kieran’s old college hoodies, and pad to the bathroom.

I put off looking in the mirror for as long as possible, but I can’t help but look up when I’m brushing my teeth.

I’m a mess. My eyes are bloodshot and sore, the circles beneath them dark and haunting. My skin is pale, and I’ve had a breakout.

Everything is falling apart.

Grams is…Grams is bad. I don’t need to be sitting beside her for hours to know. The grim looks on the nurses’ faces every time I see them...the truth is clear as day in their eyes.

Two days ago, they explained how the antibiotics they gave her for a chest infection haven’t helped, and it’s progressed to pneumonia.

I blow out a long, pained breath as I lower my toothbrush to the sink.

I’m going to lose her any day now.

Pain explodes in my chest. It’s like something being wrapped around my heart, making each breath harder and harder to take.

I’m numb as I make my way to the kitchen.

Kieran’s absence is strikingly obvious. I don’t need his note to tell me that he’s not here. I can sense it.

The little life that had come back to this place with his arrival has drained out.

I start the coffee machine on autopilot. I probably won’t drink it—I’m not sure my stomach can take it—but it’s better to be doing something than it is to think.

Thinking is heartbreaking.

I need the distraction of something else.

If it weren’t for Kieran, I’d already be in my car and heading for Grams, but he’ll tell me off if I don’t wait for him. And while I can take it, I don’t have the energy to deal with it.

Instead, I grab my cell, ignoring every notification and call the care home to see how her night was.

It’s another twenty minutes before the sound of the front door slamming echoes through the house.

Startled, I jump to my feet and twist toward the door just as a harassed-looking Kieran bursts through.

He lowers a box from my favorite bakery to the counter, along with two take-out coffees, but he doesn’t say anything.

My heart jumps into my throat, my stomach twisting.

“Kieran?” I whisper, not liking the energy that’s radiating from him one bit.

He stills with his eyes focused on the other side of the room as his chest heaves and his fists clench at his sides.

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