Page 46 of By His Play

I made a pit stop by the kitchen for the hot chocolate I failed to make for her earlier and then joined her under the covers.

She may not have invited me, but right now, words are not necessary.

“Please,” I beg as I pass the mug toward her.

She hasn’t had anything since the sip of water in the car. I understand that she doesn’t want anything right now, but I won’t take no for an answer.

Her eyes find mine, and her lips part to argue, but whatever she finds stops her from saying the words teetering on the tip of her tongue.

“Thank you,” she finally whispers, taking the mug and holding it close.

Side by side, we sit silently, sipping on our drinks.

There’s so much that needs saying, but also, there aren’t enough words in the world to capture what we’re both going through right now.

As soon as she’s had enough, which thankfully is more than I was expecting, she places her mug on the nightstand and slides lower in the bed, pulling the covers up to her chin.

A few seconds later, I follow suit and lie in front of her.

Her eyes are open, but they’re not focused. She’s too lost in her grief.

Unable to do anything else, I reach out, wrap my arm around her waist, and tug her closer.

If the only thing I can do right now is to make her feel safe and protected, then I’ll take it.

She whimpers as I hold her tighter, her nose only an inch from mine.

“I’ve got you,” I whisper. “Get some sleep. I’ll still be here when you wake up. I promise.”

It takes a long time for her eyelids to lower, but when they do, it only takes seconds for her breathing to get heavier and for her body to relax against mine.

I, however, don’t manage to drift off for the longest time as I run through the endless things she’s going to have to deal with in the coming days.

I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy, let alone my best friend.

My body is heavy, my limbs still fully asleep, but something wakes me, and when my eyelids lift, I discover why.

Effie is sobbing right next to me.

She’s doing it silently with her back to me so I can’t see the tears, but the way her body trembles is a dead giveaway.

Just like last night, I reach out and pull her tiny body into mine. Locking one arm around her waist, I slide the other beneath her and wrap it around her shoulders before pulling my knees up so I’m spooning her.

Wrapping her arms around mine, she clings to me as she cries.

I hate this. I fucking hate that she’s hurting and all I can do is hold her.

But as much as I hate it, I’ll do it for as long as she needs me to.

Eventually, her sobs subside and she sucks in a ragged breath before wiping her eyes and whispering, “You’re still here.”

“Of course. I promised I would be.”

“I know, but you get up early.”

“Not today. My girl needs me.”

Her breath catches and she spins in my arms so she’s facing me.

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