‘Probably.’ he agrees, with complete ease, smacking his lips together. ‘Come on, I need to feed my wife and peanuts.’ He returns me to a vertical position and starts to reposition the slipping straps of my little yellow sundress. ‘These need tightening.’
Shrugging his fussing hands away, I lead on, pulling my own straps into place and disregarding the grunts of protest coming from behind me. ‘Where are you feeding me?’ I ask over my shoulder, keeping up my stride. I’m not striding for long, though. My wrist is seized, and I’m suddenly pulling against a dead weight.
‘Don’t walk away from me,’ he practically growls, spinning me around to face him. He’s scowling, while I’m grinning. ‘And you can wipe that grin off your face.’ He proceeds to tighten my straps, muttering some rubbish about an insufferable wife, who drives him f**king crazy. ‘Better. Where are all the clothes I bought you?’
‘At home.’ I answer curtly, not that any were suitable for a holiday in the sun. I wasn’t exactly given time to go holiday shopping, so I made do with my holiday wardrobe from a few years ago. I was early twenties then, and these clothes he keeps moaning about reflect it.
He takes a deep breath of patience. ‘Why do you insist on being so difficult?’
‘Because I know it drives you crazy.’
‘You just enjoy reducing me to a crazy madman.’
‘You make yourself a crazy madman.’ I laugh. ‘You need no help in that department, Jesse. I’ve told you before; you do not dictate my wardrobe.’
His eyes burn with green displeasure, but I don’t shy away from his hulking, fierceness. I’m really rather brave. ‘You drive me crazy.’ he repeats, because he doesn’t know what else he can say.
‘What are you going to do?’ I ask smugly. ‘Divorce me?’
‘Watch your f**king mouth!’
‘I didn’t even swear!’ I’m really laughing now.
‘Yes, you f**king did! The worse word, in fact. I forbid you to say it.’
Oh, now I’ve really got the chuckles. ‘You forbid me?’
His arms fold over his chest in an act of authority, like I’m a bloody child. ‘Yes, I forbid you.’
‘Divorce.’ I whisper.
‘Now you’re just being childish.’ he huffs, just like a child.
‘-ish.’ I shrug. ‘Feed me.’
He scoffs loudly and shakes his head. ‘I should f**king starve you and reward you with food when you do what you’re f**king told.’ My shoulders are clenched, I’m turned around and then guided towards a sea-front restaurant. ‘I’ll feed you here.’
We’re shown to a table for two on the outside terrace and settled by a happy Spanish man with slicked black hair and a moustache to match. ‘Drinks?’ he asks in a thick Spanish accent.
‘Water, thank you.’ Jesse sits me down and tucks me under the table before taking a seat opposite and passing me a menu. ‘The Tapas are sublime.’
‘You pick.’ I hand the menu back over the table. ‘I’m sure you’ll make a suitable choice.’ My eyebrows are raised cheekily, and the menu is taken from my hand thoughtfully, but with no scorn or reproving look.
‘Thank you.’ he says slowly.
‘You’re welcome,’ I counter, pouring us a glass of water each when the waiter places an ice cold jug on the table. It’s muggy and my thirst has hit hard at the sight of water trickling down the side of the glass pitcher. I down the whole glass in one foul swoop and immediately pour another.
‘Thirsty?’ he watches in astonishment as I make quick work of the second glass, nodding over the rim. ‘Be careful.’ he warns. I’m frowning over the rim, but unable to stop gulping the icy liquid. ‘You might drown the babies.’
I cough a little on a laugh and place my water down to grab a napkin. ‘Will you stop with that?’
‘What? I’m just showing some fatherly concern.’ He looks hurt, but I know better.
‘You don’t think I can look after our babies, do you?’
‘Yes I do.’ he retorts softly, with absolutely zero conviction. He really doesn’t. I’m shocked, and my face probably shows it, even if he’s refusing to meet my eyes so he can see for himself.
‘What the hell do you think I’m going to do?’ I regret the question the second it falls from my mouth, even more so when his head snaps up and I’m hit with a sceptical look. ‘Don’t’ I warn, my voice cracking and tears of regret immediately burning the back of my eyes. I work hard to blink them back, mentally beating myself up for my cold hearted thoughts. I feel terrible enough all on my own, without Jesse enflaming the guilt.
I’m looking anywhere and everywhere, except at Jesse because to look at his face right now will remind me of the dark place I need to forget. I don’t blame him for doubting my capabilities, I’m pretty doubtful myself, but I have him, as he keeps reminding me.