she asked, surprised by how small and tight her voice was. “What are you… who is she?”
“What’s going on?” the girl asked as she scrambled for something to cover herself with. Effie couldn’t tear her eyes off her. It was like looking in a mirror. The same thick, reddish brown hair. The striking blue eyes. The same full breasts.
“Thorne, what the fuck?” the girl screamed. “You said you broke up!”
“I— I never said that,” Thorne said. He looked between the two of them. “Effie, you have to believe me, I never said that—”
“I don’t care what you said,” Effie said. She wanted to scream, to cry, but everything just felt stuck in her chest. “I don’t care what you told her! Why are you… how long… never mind,” she said. “Forget it.”
Effie turned and slammed the door. As she barreled down the hallway, she could hear the girl screaming and glass shattering.
Get him, she thought to herself. If she couldn’t bring herself to show the rage he deserved, let her look-alike do it.
She locked herself into the library and grabbed one of the leather duffel bags out of the closet. Effie hadn’t realized until that moment that the things that were really hers, what she adored the most, Thorne had designated to the smallest spare room in the condo. It was basically a closet, albeit a beautiful one. She shoved her USB sticks and laptop into the bag, the bottle of perfume her Yaya had brought back from Greece years ago, and the stack of her favorite romance books.
Forget the clothes and the makeup, she thought. Just get out.
As she zipped the bag and left the library, she could still hear the two of them going at it in the bedroom. She couldn’t tell whether they were fighting or fucking, but she didn’t care. She needed to get away, as soon as possible.
Effie pounded her thumb against the elevator button. Tears started to prick at her eyes, but she’d be damned if she would cry until she made it to the car.
“Effie!” she heard Thorne yell as he started down the hall after her, his footsteps heavy. “Effie, stop! Let’s talk about this, this is being taken way out of context—”
Please close, she prayed as she watched him turn the corner towards the elevator, naked and still half-hard. Please close.
As if it were in a perfectly timed movie, the elevator slid shut when he was inches away.
Effie ran to the car, hood down, and let the demanding Illinois rain pound at her head. She locked the door immediately and pulled away from the curb without looking. Behind her, a horn blared and she saw a white Escalade veer to the left to avoid hitting her.
“Three years,” she said aloud as she wiped at the tears that streamed down her cheeks. “Three goddamned years.”
It was a long time to spend, to waste, on anyone. And that was after dating King all of high school!
Oh, the years I have thrown away on the Smith brothers. Damn them both.
“I’m a freaking moron,” she said, thinking that she needed a drink.
Effie searched the little artisanal boutiques in Thorne’s neighborhood for some kind of bar. Anything that didn’t have twenty dollar cocktails and entrees that cost an entire day’s pay would do. But there was nothing in Thorne’s hoity-toity neighborhood that even came close to what she needed right now.
Actually, what she needed most was just somewhere to disappear.
Finally, she pulled into a little tapas place advertising happy hour. Effie parked in the far back of the lot and watched as impeccable couples squealed as the valet opened doors with expansive black umbrellas.
She couldn’t get the image of that cheater out of her mind. The thought of her lookalike peering over the top of Thorne’s thigh made her eyes well up. She felt rage building in her chest, scraping at the lining of her throat, desperate to escape.
“How could you do this to me?” she screamed into the empty cabin of the car. Finally, her voice had arrived.
She hadn’t been stupid. She knew that when Thorne first approached her it was to get under King’s skin. After all, she and King had only broken up the month before.
There she was, sitting at a Starbuck’s, staring into her drink. Thinking of how King had never even called or wrote in the month since he’d left.
He’d forgotten all about her, even though he’d called her the love of his life. So when she saw his big frame that day…
She could admit to being more than a little crushed to realize that it was Thorne. And he’d come looking for her with a proposition.
Effie had to admit, part of her liked the idea. She’d reveled in it a little. If she and Thorne could both piss off King, why not?
It’s not like King was standing around waiting for them. He was long gone.
They hadn’t ever said anything about it aloud, but it was a kind of unspoken agreement. Then things got more complicated. Messier.
When Thorne said he loved her three months in, she said it back because they were already in the thick of it. Plus, her mom pushed her insistently in his direction.
“But he’s King’s brother!” she’d argued. She remembered the night clearly. Effie was still in her high school graduation robe.
“So what?” her mom asked. “You and King, it was nothing. Puppy love. Thorne is the respectable one. The mature one. And his family already loves you!”
“Mom—”
“Relationships aren’t just about two people,” her mom said, which made Effie clamp her mouth shut.
Three years later Thorne proposed to her. Thorne had taken her, her mom, and Yaya out to a posh restaurant where he ordered for everyone. Before the appetizers even arrived, Thorne leaned across the table and took her mom’s hand.
“I want you to know, Effie and I getting married? It means I’m committed to you, too. And Yaya. You don’t need to worry about a thing anymore. I’ll take care of you.”
When her mom’s eyes had welled up with tears, Effie knew she was doing the right thing. Besides, Thorne was a nice enough guy. At least she’d thought so.
“Is this how you’re taking care of me? Of us?” she asked, but the empty car gave no answers. “Motherfucker!”
The word, rare coming from her lips, made her shiver.
Don’t you dare cry over him, she scolded herself. Not a single tear!
Effie sniffed and gazed at the restaurant through the cascade of rainfall. As much as it sounded right, she couldn’t bring herself to drink now. Least of all in a public place surrounded by happy couples.
Instead, she picked up the phone and scrolled to MOM.
“Mom?”
