Effie snuggled deeper in the unfamiliar sheets. When she reached for King, she felt nothing. As she fluttered her eyes open, she realized he was gone.

Great. Just like always, she thought.

She knew it had been a mistake to go in the bedroom after him last night, but what else was she supposed to do? Being with him was the closest thing to comfort she had.

She swung her legs over the edge of the massive bed and saw a note on the nightstand.

I’ll be back soon. Don’t go anywhere.

Effie groaned. That’s just what she needed—to be left alone, quarantined in a strange house to take care of Yaya, while he runs all over town.

Crap, Yaya, she thought.

Effie pulled on the same clothes from last night and raced downstairs. She didn’t hear anything, but more than once she’d found Yaya fallen and unable to move. When she asked why Yaya hadn’t called for help, her grandmother just said, “Stop making such a fuss, I was perfectly fine.”

She breathed a sigh of relief when she found Yaya in the guest en suite brushing her hair.

“Good morning, Yaya,” she said. “Did you sleep well?”

“Oh, honey, just wonderfully,” her Yaya said. “Have you heard back from the ambassador yet?”

Sometimes it was easy to tell which era her Yaya was in based on what she said. Now, it seemed to be around forty years ago. It was a good era for Yaya, which meant it would be relatively easy to take care of her.

“Not yet, Yaya. Do you want to watch some television with me? Seinfeld?”

“Sweetheart, you know I hate that show,” Yaya said with a sniff.

Effie ushered her grandmother into the great room and fiddled with the various remotes while Yaya gazed at the family portrait.

“I think I know that young man,” Yaya said as she pointed to King.

“Oh, yeah? Is he a good guy?”

Yaya sniffed. “I don’t know about that, but he’s certainly good looking. It’s too bad I’m taken.”

“Yaya!” Effie said with a laugh as she finally figured out the television.

“What? I can still look, can’t I? I haven’t gone blind.”

Effie flipped through the various stations while Yaya was transfixed on the non-stop trailers.

“Well, would you look at this?” Yaya asked, mesmerized. “I never thought I’d live to see the day everything got so high tech.”

“Does anything look good, Yaya?” Effie asked. She lingered on Seinfeld, but Yaya wouldn’t bite.

“Oh, whatever you want, dear. I’m not picky.”

Effie gave Friends a shot, and fortunately Yaya settled into the plush, thick leather sectional.

“Would you like to share something with me?” Effie asked. “Popcorn, or something?”

“I’m fine, dear.”

“Yaya, you need something to take with your pills.”

Her grandmother let out an exasperated sigh.

“Fine, fine,” she said.

Effie dug through the pantry and checked all the non-perishable foods. She found a packet of movie theater-style popcorn in the back. Yaya’s pills were neatly sorted by the day in her bevy of pill containers. The microwave beeped as she filled a glass with water and double checked all the pills were in order.

“Would you look at this?” Yaya asked as Effie entered the great room. “How do these young folks live in such a big apartment in New York on those salaries? I lived in New York, and let me tell you we didn’t have an apartment like that.”

“It’s one of life’s greatest mysteries, Yaya,” Effie said.

She curled up in the couch next to her grandmother and handed her the pills and water. It had been years since Yaya kicked up a fuss about taking the pills, but it seemed burned into her daily tasks now.

As she watched her grandmother munch on the popcorn and watch television, Effie bit her lip.

What if someone comes over here while King is gone? She couldn’t come up with any kind of excuse. This is a super temporary situation at best, she reminded herself.

Still, she needed to make certain there was no trace of them being there. If Thorne came barreling into the house, there was no telling what he might do.

They watched three episodes—or, Yaya watched three episodes while Effie obsessively checked the time. When the neighbor’s dog started barking, she nearly jumped out of the seat.

“Everything okay, sweetheart?” her Yaya asked.

“Uh, yeah. Good. The dog just scared me.”

“You never liked dogs, Bill. I don’t know what your problem is.”

Effie could tell from the tone, and the mention of her uncle’s name, that her grandmother had moved into a different decade.

Hopefully not an upsetting one.

At the end of the fifth episode, Effie heard a shuffling at the door and a smart knock.

Shit, shit, shit. She pressed herself against the wall and inched down the foyer. A shadow could be made out through the ornamental stained glass of the big double doors, but the shadow didn’t seem to be moving much. Who is it and what do they want?

Effie was an arm’s stretch away when the brass mail slot shot open and a cascade of mail fell through. Only then did she let out her breath.

There must be a package left outside, she thought. Effie realized that there wasn’t any mail around when they’d come in the previous day. Who’s getting the mail, then?

It made her nervous. Someone had to be checking the house regularly, if not daily. It might be a caretaker. Or it might be someone in King’s family.

“Who was it, dear?” her Yaya asked when she pulled her feet up on the couch beside her.

“Just the mailman.” Yaya seemed satisfied and returned to the bowl of popcorn.

All of this nervousness and jumping around reminded her of the first time King left. In between the bouts of crying, she kept jumping up to check the window every time a car drove by. Effie never thought he’d really leave her. She was confident he’d drive up to her house at any moment and apologize.

But it never happened. Instead, it was Thorne who showed up at her door. She’d been so happy when she saw a slick Rolls Royce roll into the driveway, sure it was King in his father’s car going all out to win her back, that she’d raced out of the driveway and directly into his arms—Thorne’s arms.

That’s how it had all started. Effie often wondered if she was really so blinded by hope and love for King that she didn’t realize it was Thorne. Or maybe she did know, and she saw an opportunity even before Thorne spelled it out for her.

It was the end of the sixth episode, and Effie couldn’t stop herself from pacing behind the couch. Yaya kept turning to look at her, but Effie couldn’t help it.

She had to move. Otherwise, she’d go crazy. The exterior sounds were still making her crazy. She bristled and jumped with every motor starting or animal sound.

This is it, it’s for real this time. He’s not coming back. He ditched me here, in his family house, and is probably laughing about it right now.

Effie froze behind Yaya and scanned the room.

Cameras. There are probably cameras in here. What if King was watching her, incredulous that she’d believed him for so long?

Then again, it’s not really his job to come back, she thought. He could just leave me and Yaya here, and I can’t be mad about it. Not really, not after I accepted Thorne’s stupid proposal years ago.

Effie knew she should have resisted. She should have said no. But her mother had put incredible pressure on her, and it had felt kind of good when Thorne showed up at her door like a white knight. She swallowed, guilty. It also helped that there were some physical similarities between King and Thorne.

Of course, King had always been better looking. Taller, more muscular, a squarer jaw and a thick five o’clock shadow. But he shared the same eyes as Thorne, and they had the same twitch in their cheeks when they were annoyed.

Effie couldn’t count how many times she’d slept with Thorne and wished it were King. When she’d had a few drinks, it was easy. The parts of Thorne that reminded her of King became highlighted. Still, she kept her eyes mostly closed when she was with Thorne and tried to convince her brain and body that it was King she was with.

But he didn’t kiss like King. It wasn’t deep and passionate. He didn’t make love to her like King did. There was no fooling her in her deepest parts. Thorne was a poor substitution or alternative, and the last week had really put that in perspective.

Who gets over something to life-changing so fast? she wondered.

Not someone like Thorne, that’s for sure.

It wasn’t just her, and she knew it. Yes, she’d jumped right into bed with King the first chance she got, but she hadn’t sought it out. It just happened. Thorne had done a complete one-eighty, too. He’d soared through guilt and begging straight into revenge territory. Effie wasn’t sure what would have happened if Thorne hadn’t caught her with King.

Would he still be trying to turn the tables? She didn’t know. He shouldn’t be surprised, though. After all, I was with King first.

Effie chewed at her cuticle. On the television, an advertisement for cologne began to play with the Supremes crooning in the background.

“Oh, Effie, baby, you always liked this song,” Yaya said. She turned and smiled at Effie.

Effie returned the smile. The lucid moments were rare.

“You played it for me first,” she said.

As “Stop! In the Name of Love” faded, Effie knew her feelings for King had come shimmering back to life in the past week—she could try to deny it all she wanted. And it was easy, given how incredible the sex was. Who wouldn’t fall apart with sex like that? But it was more than that, and she knew it.

How could he not feel it, too?

Effie ached for him, and not just at the thought that he’d left her. She needed him then and there regardless. It was a kind of heartache he felt when he’d left her in high school, and it had been less than a day.

Is there any denying that I still feel something? No.

She sighed and fell into the couch beside Yaya.

Her grandmother reached over and patted her hand.

“It’ll be okay,” she said.

Why would he just leave? Why would he leave a note if he wasn’t coming back? Outside, the sun began to set. Effie had lost count of how many episodes there had been. Crap, and I didn’t give anything to Yaya besides popcorn.

Effie went into the kitchen to put together some semblance of a meal when a pair of headlights pulled into the driveway. She ducked, but then saw the familiar Jeep. She felt a stirring below and couldn’t believe it. She was getting wet just at the sight of him.

All she wanted to do was pounce, but she had to at least wait until he got inside.

King opened the door from the garage and appeared with two pizza boxes.

“Where have you been?” she hissed. “I was starting to worry that you weren’t coming back.”

“And yet here I am,” he said as he walked into the living room. “Yaya, are you hungry? Do you like pizza?”

“Oh, famished dear, thank you.”

Effie shifted her weight back and forth as King brought plates, napkins, and drinks painfully slow to Yaya.

As soon as her grandmother was settled in with dinner and her shows, Effie grabbed King’s hand and towed him upstairs to the bedroom.

“Easy, kitten,” King said with a laugh.

She turned on her heels, arms crossed. “I was worried about you! You made me worry!”

King drew her into his arms and pulled her head against his chest. “I left you a note,” he said.

“It just said you’d be back soon,” she protested.

“And here I am.”

“Where did you go?” she asked as she looked up at him.

“It’s a surprise. I can’t tell you until tomorrow.”

She searched his eyes, suspicious. “What is it?”

“Don’t make me ruin the surprise, okay?”

“But—”

King kissed her. It melted her bones. His fingers moved to her zipper, and she pushed away slightly. “Yaya is still awake.”

King shushed her, one finger on her lips.

“I’ll be quiet if you will,” he said. “For real this time.”

“Effie glanced towards the door and King swung it shut.

When he bent her over the bed and entered her from behind, she concentrated on keeping her lips sealed shut.

Everything in her wanted to cry out his name, but she wouldn’t dare. She felt his hand on her back and another on her nipple, the pinch slow and with just the right amount of bite.

Effie thought she had it under control. But when he dropped to his knees and forced her to straddle his face, she had to press her palms against her lips to stop the cries when her orgasm hit.