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I’m not sure what pisses me off more—the fact he doesn’t reply, or when he has someone else pretend that he cares.
I should stop messaging really. But I can’t help hoping that one day he might just realize what he’s about to lose. It’s a lost cause, I know it is, but I can’t let it go.
I let out a pained sigh and slump lower in the chair.
I’ve got a million things that I want to say to Grams, but no words pass my lips. I should confess my sins, but the thought of her learning that her one wish for me has been based on lies ensures the words stay firmly locked inside.
Slipping the ring from the right hand, I push it onto my ring finger and study it.
It’s where it’s lived for the last month or so while I’ve happily lived in fantasy land.
Seeing the happiness on Grams’ face made the lie so easy.
I told myself that I was going to tell Kieran. It was inevitable that he was going to turn up at some point. But there was never a good time. He was so focused on the playoffs, and then his disappointment when it didn’t go their way. I didn’t want to stress him out further.
I figured that I could tell him when he got here. But facing him, the weight of my lie was too much and I chickened out.
I had the perfect opportunity to tell him earlier in the jacuzzi. And again, I choked.
He’ll understand. I know he will.
Hell, he literally told me he’d do anything to make me happy.
He’d agree to keep up this charade to make Grams happy. He’d probably delight in making it look even more realistic.
I just…
What if he gets completely freaked out and runs?
It might be unlikely, but the fear is still there. He’s spent his entire life telling me that he doesn’t want to have a serious relationship or get married and do the whole two-point-five kids thing. His career is his life, and he doesn’t want a distraction. The last thing I want to do is tell him what I’ve done and scare him off.
I sit there in silence, toying with my “engagement” ring and talking myself into a tailspin.
I’m not usually this much of a mess. I’ve never second-guessed myself so much in my life. I put it down to the grief and stress I’m currently experiencing.
I have no idea how much time passes; all I do know is that nothing changes around me until the door is pushed open and the scent of food wafts through the room.
“I got your favorite,” Kieran announces, wincing when he notices that Grams is sleeping. “Sorry.”
He passes a takeout bag over, and despite my nose confirming that it is indeed my favorite, my stomach turns over in protest.
“Please, Effie. Try. For me.”
7
KIERAN
Watching Grams deteriorate more and more every day is devastating. But watching Effie fall apart in front of my eyes is even worse.
With Grams, sadly, there is nothing we can do. She is in the best place, with the best care possible. Effie did her research and chose the highest-rated—and most expensive—facility she could find. It was pure luck that it happened to be in driving distance from Grams' home. It wouldn’t have mattered if it were miles away, though, Effie would have made it happen.
But Effie…all I want to do is make it better. I want to wrap her up in bubbles and protect her from all the pain she’s feeling.
If only it would help.
I feel completely useless.
Sure, my presence helps. Or at least, I think it does.