Текст книги "This Man Confessed"
Автор книги: Jodi Ellen Malpas
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Текущая страница: 11 (всего у книги 34 страниц)
Chapter 12
‘I love you.’
The low whisper makes me smile as I roll over and blindly grab at him. ‘Hmmm.’ I hum, pulling his body down to mine.
‘Ava, it’s seven thirty.’
‘I know.’ I mumble into his neck. ‘Sleepy sex.’ I demand, my hand drifting down his thigh until I find what I’m looking for. I grasp him loosely.
‘Baby, I’d love to, but when you wake up properly, you’re going to fly into panic and leave me halfway finished.’ He grabs my hand and pulls it up to his face, kissing my fingers sweetly. ‘It’s Monday morning. It’s seven thirty. I don’t want the blame for making you late.’
My eyes open, seeing his wet face suspended over mine. He’s had a shower, which means he has been for a run, which means it’s late. I bolt upright, and he quickly moves to avoid being head-butted. ‘What time is it?’
He smiles fondly. ‘It’s seven thirty.’
‘Jesse!’ I jump up and run into the bathroom. ‘Why didn’t you wake me when you went for a run?’ I flick the shower on and turn to the sink, loading my toothbrush with toothpaste.
‘I didn’t want to disturb you.’ He leans on the doorframe and watches me frantically scrubbing my teeth. He’s grinning, no doubt at my little fluster.
‘Never… bother… fore.’ I spit around my mouthful of paste.
His grin widens. ‘Pardon?’
I shake my head on an eye roll and return to the mirror, finishing up and rinsing out. ‘I said it never bothered you before. Why didn’t you drag me out of bed and punish me with fourteen miles?’ I’m suspicious, and you can tell.
He shrugs and joins me by the mirror, grabbing his own toothbrush. ‘I will if you want me to.’
‘No, just wondering.’ I won’t push it. I step in the shower and make a quick job of washing my hair and shaving before stepping out and practically running into the walk-in-wardrobe. I stand and stare at the rails and rails of clothes, mostly all with tags still attached. It feels like hard work trying to choose, there’s way too much, so I yank down my red shift dress. That’ll do.
By the time I’ve rough dried my hair, haphazardly slapped on my make-up, and landed downstairs, Jesse is suited up in navy with a crisp white shirt and collecting his car keys.
‘I’ll take you,’
‘Where’s Cathy?’ I eye him up. All of him. That’s my husband. Do I really need to go work?
He frowns a little. ‘I don’t know. It’s not like her to be late.’ Grabbing my hand, he starts leading me from the penthouse. ‘You got everything?’
‘I have,’
We make our way down to the foyer of Lusso and as we approach the concierge desk, I see Cathy leaning up, chatting with Clive. I grin and look up to Jesse, but he ignores me, even though he knows damn well I’m looking at him and probably what I’m thinking, too. ‘That would explain.’ I say on a little laugh.
‘They’re just talking.’ Jesse grumbles, leading on.
‘They look very friendly.’ I watch Cathy fidget and giggle as Clive entertains her with words and hand gestures. He looks just as enthralled as Jesse’s housekeeper.
She spots us. ‘Oh! I was just on my way up!’
‘No problem,’ Jesse doesn’t sound impressed, and he doesn’t stop. I, however, would love to hang around and see the developments. My grin widens as I pass, and Cathy and Clive both blush profusely. ‘I’m out of peanut butter.’ Jesse calls back crossly.
‘There’s a whole box of it in the cupboard, my boy. Do you think I’d let that run dry?’ Cathy sounds irritated by Jesse’s critical comment. It makes me laugh, especially when Jesse starts grumbling under his breath.
‘Don’t be so moody. They’re only talking.’ I rebuke him as we emerge into the sunshine and Jesse slips his wayfarer’s on.
‘It’s not right,’ He shudders and releases my hand.
I start rummaging through my bag for my own shades. ‘Ooh, she might be inviting him up when we’re not there. I did notice the sheets it the spare room were a little… ruffled.’
‘Ava!’ he yells as he points a screwed up face of displeasure to the heavens. ‘Don’t!’
I laugh. ‘Stop being ageist.’
‘I’m not,’ His disgusted face disappears immediately. He’s grinning now.
‘What are you smirking at?’ I ask.
He removes his shades and closes the distance between us, stooping down so our noses touch. ‘I bought you a present.’
‘You have?’ I rest my lips on his. ‘What?’
‘Turn around.’
I pull back and watch his delighted eyes as he nods over my shoulder. I slowly pivot and stand for a few moments, scanning the car park for whatever I should be looking for, but nothing is jumping out at me. His arm appears over my shoulder and a set of car keys are dangling in front of my face, and it’s then I spot a dirty great big, bright white, sparkly wheeled Range Rover Sport. Or tank—whichever.
Oh no!
I can’t even think of any words. How did I miss it? It’s blinding me now. I squint as the keys are jangled in front of me, like he doesn’t realise that I’ve clocked my present and he’s trying to hint further. No need. I can see it. And I hate it!
‘Over there,’ he prompts, jangling the keys again.
‘You mean that spaceship?’ I ask dryly. I’m not driving that thing, no matter how many countdowns or sense fucks I get as a consequence.
‘You don’t like it?’ He sounds hurt. Oh shit, what do I say?
‘I like my Mini.’
‘It’s not safe.’ Now he sounds affronted, as I knew he would. He makes his way around me and looks down at my shocked face. ‘This is safer.’
I can’t help the incredulous look my face is naturally morphing into. ‘Jesse, that’s a man’s car—a John car. It’s fucking huge!’
‘Ava! Watch your fucking mouth!’ He scowls at me. ‘I got it in white. That’s a lady’s colour. Come on, I’ll show you.’ He takes my reluctant shoulders and leads me over to the giant snowball. The closer I get, the more I hate it. It’s far too showy. I love my Mini. ‘Look,’ He opens the door… and I gasp.
It gets worse.
White… everywhere. White leather steering wheel; white leather gearstick; white leather seats. Even the carpets are white.
I look up at him, my deluded husband, and shake my head, but I can’t be ungrateful. He looks so pleased with himself. I thought this man had taste. ‘I don’t know what to say.’ I really don’t. ‘You could’ve just bought me a watch or a necklace or something.’ I wish he’d have bought me a watch or necklace or something.
‘Jump in.’ He ushers me towards the thing.
I gasp. Oh no! Stitched in the headrest of the front seat is Mrs Ward.
Now that’s going too far. ‘I am not driving this!’ I blurt, before my brain filters the insulting declaration.
‘You fucking are!’
Well, that just got rid of any guilt I had, and now my heels are firmly digging in. ‘I am not! Jesse, it’s way too big for me!’
‘It’s safe.’ He picks me up and places me on the driver’s seat. I feel small. ‘Look,’ Reaching in, he presses a button and a compartment pops open, revealing a computer screen. ‘Everything you’ll need. I’ve loaded all of your favourite music.’ He grins, pressing a button and Massive Attack seeps through all of the millions of speakers. ‘You can think of me.’
‘I think of you every time you call and I hear that track.’ I jump out. ‘I want your car. You can have this.’ I signal to the gleaming heap of metal.
‘Me?’ A worried looks passes over his face. ‘But it’s a bit…’ He runs his eyes over my present. ‘… girly.’
‘It is, and I know your game, Ward.’ I look inside and my mind conjures up images of baby seats and child booster seats. And a pram in the boot. Oh no! I point my finger at his chest. ‘The only reason you want me to drive this thing is because it’s enormous and there’s less chance of injury if I crash. Prettying it up isn’t going to convince me.’ I turn and storm off towards my lovely little mini, in which there is no chance of squeezing a pram in the boot.
I’m stunned when I make it into my car without any Jesse style intervention. I look in the rear view mirror as I settle in my seat and see him leaning against his own car with his arms folded over his chest. I ignore the heavy glower on his stunning face and start my Mini, quickly reversing out of the space and heading for the gates. ‘Impossible man,’ I mutter to myself, reaching up to smash the button on the little black device that will open the gates.
It’s not there.
‘What!’ I yell disbelievingly to absolutely no one. ‘Fucking hell!’ I slam my brakes on and jump out, finding the glower has morphed into a dazzling smile.
‘Planning on going somewhere?’
‘Oh fuck off!’ I yell across the car park, grabbing my bag from the front seat and leaving my car exactly where it is, driver’s door open. I stomp my angry heels towards the pedestrian gate, but I’m not lucky enough to avoid a Jesse style intervention this time. I’m swiftly grabbed and hoofed back to my shiny new wedding present.
‘Will you watch your fucking mouth!’ He places me in the driver’s seat and puts the seatbelt on me before whipping the keys to my Mini from my hand. ‘Why do you have to defy me on absolutely everything?’ He starts transferring all of my keys onto my new car key.
‘Because you’re an unreasonable arse!’ I shift irritably in my seat. ‘Why can’t you take me to work?’
‘I’m already late for a meeting because my wife won’t do as she’s told.’ He grabs the back of my neck and yanks me towards his lips. ‘Anyone would think you’re after a retribution fuck.’
‘I’m not!’
He grins and hits me with a full on, hot, melt worthy kiss. A long one—one of those kisses that bashes all of the obstinacy right out of me. ‘Hmmm, you taste delicious, baby. What time are you finishing work?’
I’m released and, as ever, breathless. ‘Six.’
‘Come straight to The Manor and bring your files so we can finalise the orders for the new rooms.’ He pushes another button, lowering the driver’s window, before shutting the door and leaning in. He looks so smug. ‘I love you.’
‘I know.’ I mutter, turning the key in the ignition.
‘Have you spoken to Patrick yet?’ he asks, halting my strop and reminding me that I have yet to fulfil my obligation.
‘Move my car!’ I snap, not knowing what else to say.
‘I’ll take that as a no. You’ll speak to him today.’ It’s not a question.
‘Move my car.’ I repeat touchily.
‘Anything you want, lady.’ His eyes are giving me a thorough warning, but I ignore it.
‘Where the hell am I going to park this thing?’
He starts laughing and strolls off to move my car before jumping in his DBS and screeching out of the car park.
* * *
After driving around the nearest car park for an age, I finally find two spaces to straddle. Bursting through the door, the first thing I see is a bunch of Calla lilies spread on my desk and as I get nearer, a little box.
‘Darling!’ Tom’s croon doesn’t distract me from the small box.
‘Morning,’ I greet, taking a seat and picking up the box. ‘You okay?’
‘Chirpy chirpy. You?’ Tom sounds curious now and that does have my eyes dragging away from the box as I remember the last time I saw him.
‘I’m good,’ I brush it off and watch as his face spreads into a cheeky grin.
‘I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. God, that man can do a sexy brood!’ He starts fanning his face with a coffee coaster. ‘Hot!’
I scoff and turn my attention back to the box. What’s he bought me now? ‘Who delivered this?’ I ask, holding the box up.
‘Flower girl.’ Tom shrugs and returns to his computer, leaving me to unwrap the neatly covered gift box. I sigh when I open it up and come face to face with a graphite and gold Rolex. It’s the women’s equivalent to Jesse’s and stunning, but more responsibility.
‘Wow!’ Sally gushes as she catches sight of the contents. ‘Wow, wow, wow! That’s beautiful!’
I smile at her enthusiasm and take it from the box, slipping it over my wrist. It really is. ‘I know.’ I say quietly. ‘Thanks, Sal.’ I move the flowers from my desk and slip the box into my bag.
‘Would you like a coffee, Ava?’ Sal walks off towards the kitchen.
‘Please. Where are Patrick and Victoria?’
‘Patrick has a personal meeting and Victoria is on a site visit.’
‘Oh, okay.’
After putting my flowers in water, I get stuck into my work, preparing my file to take to Ruth Quinn’s, and then printing off all of the details for the obscenely expensive beds that Jesse wants made for The Manor.
At ten o’clock, I abruptly come over all queasy and disappear into the toilet to try and throw up, but it’s just not happening. I slump on the toilet, feeling hot, bothered and tearful. I need to chase up my hospital appointment. Suddenly a little determined, probably because of how crap I feel, I exit the toilets to do exactly that, but I’m soon halted mid-resolute march when the main office comes into view, and I clock someone sat in one of the tub chairs opposite my desk.
Sarah.
I don’t feel ill anymore. I feel angry. What the fucking hell is she doing here? As much as I’d love to rip her to shreds, I don’t want to in my office, so I turn to escape and hide in the toilets.
‘Ava?’
I snap out of my shocked, fleeing state and turn towards the voice—the voice I’ve not heard for weeks. I’m a little surprised this voice has found me, especially after everything that’s happened. I got her sacked. ‘Sarah.’ I say flatly. I’m reeling. Is she going to add to my grievances? She’s looking rather understated, her hair softer than usual and her boobs tucked neatly behind a substantial cropped jacket, the short dresses side-lined for a respectful, knee length matching skirt. ‘Why are you here?’ I ask.
‘I was hoping we could talk.’ She shifts in the chair uncomfortably, her usual cocky demeanour nowhere in sight.
I’ve been caught completely off guard. Is she playing games again? ‘Talk?’ I ask cautiously. ‘About what?’ I’ve got nothing to say to this woman.
She glances around the office, as do I. Tom is ever my nosey, gay friend and looking curiously across at the strange woman who’s sitting at my desk. ‘Perhaps I could buy you a coffee?’ she asks, returning her eyes to mine.
Whilst I should be telling her where to go, curiosity is getting the better of me. I walk over to my desk and grab my bag, ‘I have half an hour.’ I say curtly, leaving her behind and walking out of my office. My heart is pumping too fast for my liking. I thought I’d seen the back of this whip wielding witch, and now I’ve clapped eyes on her again, all of the torment and drama she’s caused is fresh and clear in my mind. All I can see are lash marks on Jesse, his tortured face and my pitiful body draped over him. She has a nerve.
I walk into the nearby Starbucks and settle in a chair. I’m not buying her a coffee. I know my face is plastered in a look of contempt as she approaches the table, but I can’t help it. I don’t want to help it. I want her to know how much I hate her.
‘Would you like a drink?’ she asks politely. This is not the Sarah I know and despise.
‘I’m fine.’
She smiles a little. ‘Well, I think I’ll get one. I don’t think the management would be very happy about us taking a table up. Are you sure?’
‘Yes,’ I shake my head and watch her go quietly to the counter, ensuring she’s busy ordering before I pull my phone from my bag to text Kate. I need to vent.
The cheeky bitch has turned up at my office!
She replies immediately. Granted, it wasn’t the sort of text that you could cast aside with the intention to reply soon.
No!!!!! Really? Ava, stop talking in fucking code! Who’s the cheeky bitch?
I almost let an exasperated curse fall from my lips.
Sarah!
Her reply is instant again.
Noooooooooooo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
My fingers work fast across the pad as I look up to check that Sarah’s still being served.
Fucking yes!!!!! Will call u.
I go to slip my phone in my bag, but it chimes instantly again. I can imagine her gasping, her pale fingers flying across the buttons of her phone. She’s probably driving, too.
Call me now, put it on the table. I want 2 hear what she’s got 2 say!
I do scoff out loud this time, shaking my head. She would never keep her gob shut if she heard something that she didn’t like, and then I would be explaining the distant sounds of my screeching best friend.
No
I press send and smile when she immediately texts back;
Bitch!
I shove my phone back in my bag when Sarah approaches with a coffee, crossing my legs and maintaining a look of complete hatred. I do. I hate her. I hate everything she represents, but most of all, I hate her for inflicting pain on Jesse. I should stop thinking. I’m getting angrier. My moods are extreme these days.
She lowers herself and stirs her coffee gingerly, looking down at her cup. ‘I wanted to apologise for everything that’s happened.’
‘You do?’ I laugh. ‘Are you winding me up?’
She pauses and looks up at me, smiling nervously. ‘Ava, I’m so sorry. I guess I was a little shocked at your arrival.’
‘Oh?’ I say on a frown.
‘If you told me where to go, then I wouldn’t blame you. I’ve behaved dreadfully. I have no excuse.’
‘Except that you’re in love with him.’ I say frankly, and her eyes widen in surprise. ‘Why else would you behave like that, Sarah?’
She looks away, and I think I detect tears in her eyes. Oh, she’s really in love with him. Have I underestimated this issue? ‘I’m not going to fob you off, Ava. I’ve been in love with Jesse for as long as I can remember.’ She returns her eyes to mine. ‘It doesn’t excuse me, though.’
‘But you whipped him.’ I don’t get it. ‘Why would you do that to someone you love?’
She laughs mildly. ‘That’s what I do. I dress in leathers, hold a whip and thrash men before I fuck them.’
I wince. ‘Okay.’
‘Jesse was never interested in that.’
‘But you’ve still fucked him.’ I say candidly. Jesse has admitted that to me, and I know he was never whipped before that horrible day when I found them in his office. She must have been in her element, especially when she managed to entice me to The Manor to witness the whole horror scene.
She looks surprised. ‘Yes, but just once.’ She’s definitely holding back tears. I’ve really misjudged this issue. ‘Funny, isn’t it? Even when he was smashed he didn’t want me. He’d take them all, but never me.’
I’m beginning to understand this now, even if I’m not overly happy about the reminder of Jesse’s history. He screwed all over the place, took anything, anytime… except Sarah. The Manor is full of willing women, none more than Sarah, and he never wanted her. ‘You were hoping he’d fuck you after you thrashed him?’ The words turn my stomach. I feel sick again.
She shakes her head. ‘No, I knew he wouldn’t. He was too screwed up over you. I never thought I’d see the day when Jesse Ward would fall to his knees for a woman.’
‘You mean you hoped you would never see the day.’
‘Yes, I hoped. I also hoped that you’d run a mile when you found out about The Manor.’
I did run a mile, but I went back. It didn’t take Sarah’s intervention to get me running after I discovered the drunken Jesse, though. I look at the woman across the table from me, and I feel sorry for her. I hate myself for it, but I do. ‘Sarah, he classes you as a friend.’ I can’t believe I’m trying to make this woman feel better after everything she’s done.
‘Yes, he does.’ She really laughs this time, but then she frowns and returns to stirring her coffee. ‘After what you did, and seeing how he reacted to that, it made me realise how stupid I’d been. He deserves happiness. He deserves you. You love him despite The Manor, what he did, and his problem with alcohol. You love him in his entirety.’ She smiles. ‘You’ve made him feel. I should never have tried to take that away from him.’
I’m sitting in a stunned silence, just staring at her, with not a clue of what to say in response. What do I say to that? ‘You want your job back.’ So I say that?
Her eyes widen. ‘I don’t think that can happen, do you?’
No, it couldn’t. Despite her confessions, I could never trust her or even like her. I can feel a little sorry for her, but I could never invite her back into our lives. I’ve never asked Jesse what happened when he fired her. He made it clear it wasn’t up for discussion and being delighted that she was out of the picture, I didn’t push it. But now, more than ever, I really want to know what happened during that conversation.
‘You must have seen him with many women. Why target me?’ I ask, although I already know the answer to that question.
‘You were different, that was obvious. Jesse Ward doesn’t pursue women. Jesse Ward doesn’t take women back to his home. Jesse Ward doesn’t not drink. You’ve changed that man. You’ve done what many women have tried and failed to do for many years, Ava. You’ve won The Lord.’ She stands up. ‘Congratulations, Mrs Ward. Take care of him. Make him happy. He deserves it.’
She leaves.
As I watch her back disappear out of Starbucks, I feel tearful again. I’ve won The Lord. I’ve changed him. I’ve made him stop drinking and fucking around. I’ve made him feel and love. And he does love. He loves really hard, and I love him really hard, too. I need to see him. I really need to see him. Damn Ruth Quinn and her demanding arse.
I jump up and race to the car park to collect my present, calling Kate on the way.
‘What did she say?’ she screeches down the phone before it’s even rung.
‘Apologised.’ I’m a little breathless. ‘Anyway, I’m keeping the baby.’
She laughs at me. ‘Of course you are, you stupid cow.’
I smile as I run towards the car park, keen to get my appointment with Ruth out of the way so I can get to Jesse.
* * *
‘Ava!’ Her smiley face almost irritates me.
‘Hi, Ruth.’ I practically push past her into the shell of a kitchen, doing a quick analyse. Everything looks like it’s on track. Nothing is jumping out as being a problem. ‘I can’t stay long, Ruth. I have another meeting.’ I turn to face her.
‘Oh? Coffee?’ She looks hopeful.
‘No, really. What’s the problem?’ I ask, trying to prompt her along, but she doesn’t look like she’s in a hurry as she meanders over to a makeshift table and starts faffing with a mug.
‘I’ll just make myself one, and we can go sit in the lounge where it’s less dusty.’
I screw my face up in frustration. ‘I’m sorry, I double booked, Ruth. Can we re-arrange?’ I’m feeling panicky.
‘Oh. It won’t take long.’ She carries on about her slow business, while I shift impatiently behind her. You would think she was doing this on purpose. ‘Did you have a good weekend with your parents?’
The question throws me, but I quickly engage my brain before I drop myself in it. ‘Oh, yes, thank you.’
‘Are you sure you don’t want a coffee?’ She lazily strolls over to the fridge to get the milk.
‘No, honestly.’ I can’t help the irritation in my tone.
‘It’s funny. I was sure that I saw you on Friday evening.’ she says casually. ‘In a bar. What’s it called?’ She pours the milk leisurely and stirs even slower. ‘That’s it. Baroque on Piccadilly.’
‘Oh?’ Shit! ‘Yes, I joined a few work friends. Nothing much. I left Saturday morning to visit my parents.’ My fingers are twisting wildly in my hair. Why am I even lying to her? What I do and when I do it is none of her business.
She turns with a smile, but then her eyes fall on my left hand and there is no mistaking the eye bulge. I look at my diamond adorned ring finger and suddenly feel uneasy. ‘You’ve never said you were married.’ she laughs. ‘I feel so stupid! There’s me, telling you to steer clear of all men, and all along you were married!’ She actually starts blushing, and a horrible realisation kicks in.
She’s gay! Oh no! Oh fucking hell! That would explain it, all of the invitations to drinks, the persistent calling and meetings, and now her eyes bulging at my rings. She fancies me. Now I really do feel uncomfortable.
‘Wait there.’ She frowns. ‘I remember you saying you had a boyfriend,’ Her frown deepens. ‘And you didn’t have any rings on last week.’
I shift on my heels. ‘I only recently got married.’ I’m not going into this. ‘My rings were being re-sized.’ I can’t look at her. She’s attractive, but not like that.
‘Why didn’t you say?’ She sounds offended.
Why didn’t I say? Lots of reasons! ‘It was a low-key affair. Just family.’ Would she have expected an invite, or would she have tried to stop me? All this talk is making me want to get to Jesse even more. Should I tell her that I’m pregnant too? By, the look on her face, it would probably finish her off. She looks hurt. ‘Ruth, I really must ask what you wanted to discuss so I can remedy it and get going. I’m sorry to do this.’
She makes an obviously bad job of hiding her alarm and giving me a fake smile. ‘No, you go. It can wait.’
I’m relieved but shocked. Maybe this was the best thing that could’ve happened. Will she ease off on the persistent offers of drinks and meetings? I can’t believe I didn’t see this before. A woman who looks like this with no man? I don’t dwell on it for long, though. I’m itching to escape, and not just because I have a female admirer.
‘Thank you, Ruth. We’ll re-arrange.’ I don’t hang around. I exit hastily and wave my arm over my shoulder as I do. I’m such a fool.
I run down the path and jump into my shiny new car, nearly breaking down in tears when Angel hits my eardrums.
* * *
I frantically stab at the button on the intercom, but after a few agonising minutes, the gates still aren’t opening, so I dive into my bag and retrieve my phone to dial him. It rings once.
‘Ava?’
‘The gates won’t open!’ I sound distressed and crazy, but I’m going out of my mind with the need to see him.
‘Hey, calm down.’ He sounds equally anxious. ‘Where are you?’
‘I’m at the gates! I’ve been pressing the button, but no one’s opening them!’
‘Ava, stop it. You’re worrying me.’
‘I need you.’ I sob, finally giving in to the overwhelming guilt that’s been looming deep inside of me for days. ‘Jesse, I need you.’
I can hear his laboured breathing down the phone. He’s running. ‘Pull down the sun visor, baby.’
I look up through my tears and yank down the white leather, finding two small black devices. I don’t wait for his instruction. I press them both and the gates start to swing open. I throw my phone on the passenger seat and bang my foot down on the accelerator, immediately zooming forward. I’m crying hard now, painful, aching, heavy tears as I weave up the tree lined driveway in a blur until I see Jesse’s Aston Martin come speeding from the other direction. I slam my brakes on and jump out, running at full pelt toward him.
He looks absolutely terrified as he flies from his car, leaving the door open, and sprints towards his crazy, hysterical wife. I can’t help it, I’m freaking him out, but this sudden clarity has sent me into a panic attack. I’ve lost control of my emotions. The cold hearted bitch I’ve been is suddenly melting and letting me see things clearly.
Our bodies’ crash together, and I’m immediately engulfed by him, every hard muscle pushed up against me as I’m lifted and held tight to his body. I sob relentlessly into his neck as he paces around the driveway just holding me. I’m so stupid. I’m such a stupid, selfish, heartless cow.
‘Jesus, Ava.’ he pants into my neck.
‘I’m sorry.’ I still sound frantic, even though I feel a million times better for being in his arms.
‘What’s happened?’
‘Nothing. I just needed to see you.’ I grip him tighter. I can’t get him close enough.
‘Fucking hell, Ava! Please, explain!’ He tries to release me, but I firm up my already iron hold, refusing to let him put me down. ‘Ava?’
‘Can we go home?’
‘No! Not until you tell me why the fuck you’re in such a state.’ he shouts, battling with my clutching arms. I’m no match for him. He soon detaches me from his body and stands me in front of him, scanning every square inch of my figure as he holds the tops of my arms. ‘What’s going on?’
‘I’m pregnant.’ I sob. ‘I lied to you. I’m sorry.’
He physically starts twitching and drops me, stepping back, his eyes wide, his frown line deep. ‘What?’
I brush my rolling tears away and drop my eyes to the floor. I feel so ashamed of myself. He’s no saint, but while he was trying to make life, I was thinking about destroying it. That really is unforgivable, not that I could ever tell him what I was thinking. ‘You make me so mad.’ I whisper pitifully. ‘You make me mad and then you make me so happy. I didn’t know what to do.’ It’s a feeble and pathetic excuse.
When a few silent, awkward moments have past, and he still hasn’t spoken, I chance a glance at him. He looks in shock.
‘Fuck! Ava, are you trying to get me sectioned?’ His hands delve into his hair, and he looks up to the sky. ‘Are you fucking with my mind because I really don’t need this, lady. I’ve just got my head around you not pregnant, and now you are?’
‘I always have been.’
His head drops and so do his hands. They just dangle by his sides as he studies me closely, a disbelieving look on his face. ‘When were you going to tell me?’
‘When I accepted it.’ I don’t even think I’m lying, and my lack of need to try and restrain my natural reflex is telling me so. Maybe I was trying to make the most of dominant Jesse before he starts treating me like glass again. I don’t even know. I’ve been so stupid.
‘We’re having a baby?’ He barely whispers the words, and I nod my confirmation. I can’t talk. His eyes fall from mine to my stomach and linger for a while, and then I see a tear trickle down his cheek. It enflames the guilt further, but when he drops to his knees, I lose complete control of my own weeping. I’m just standing and crying, watching his slumped body silently shedding tears in front of me. I really have fucked with his head, as if he needs it where I’m concerned.
My natural response to my beautiful, neurotic man’s reaction is to walk straight to him and join him on the floor. My arms creep over his shoulders and hold him tight to me as he sobs into my neck, his hands drifting all over my back, like he’s checking that I’m really here.
‘I’m so sorry.’ I say quietly.
He doesn’t speak. He stands and lifts me with him before taking me to his car and depositing me in the passenger seat, remaining silent as he buckles me in. Taking his phone from the inside pocket of his suit jacket, he shuts the door before walking off and making a call while he moves my new car to the side of the driveway.
He returns and puts my bag between my feet before driving us home in complete silence.