‘What?’ I’m sitting up fully now. ‘Go on.’ I push. This story isn’t taking the direction that I thought it would at all.
He takes another long, painful breath. I should tell him to stop and rest, but I don’t. ‘Carmichael walked in on me and Sarah. He hit the roof, got the girls and left.’
Oh good Lord. ‘The girls?’ I ask. I don’t know why. I know who the girls are.
‘Rosie and Rebecca.’
‘Your Rosie and their Rebecca.’ I whisper. ‘The car accident?’
He nods mildly and clenches his eyes shut. ‘I didn’t just kill my uncle and my daughter. I killed Sarah’s girl, too.’
‘No,’ I shake my head. ‘That can’t be your fault.’
‘I think you’ll find that my poor decisions have been the cause for everything, Ava. I’ve f**ked up on so many levels so many times, and I’ve paid for it, but I can’t pay for it now that I have you. What if I make a bad decision again? What if I screw up again? What if I’m not done paying?’
His demand for compliance on everything is crystal clear. Too clear. He really does live in terror, but it’s far worse than I ever imagined. He blames himself for everything, and maybe his carelessness played a small part, but ultimately, he’s not responsible. He wasn’t driving the car that hit Jake. He wasn’t driving the car with the girls. He didn’t want to get married and he definitely wanted to be a proper father. And Sarah? That has totally floored me. She had a child with Carmichael, but was in love with her boyfriend’s nephew? Fucking hell, this is complicated stuff. Sarah really does have nothing and after losing both her daughter and her lover. She sought solace in The Manor, a little bit like Jesse did. Two tortured souls drowning themselves in whips, sex, and drink, but never in each other. That was Jesse’s choice, though. Not Sarah’s.
‘You are more than done paying.’ My eyes land on his stomach. He’s paid physically and mentally, and it’s made my husband a neurotic control freak now he has something he cares about again.
Me.
‘When did she hurt you before?’ I ask, needing that final piece to secure this colossal puzzle and lay it all to bed.
‘After Rosie died, she tried so hard to make me see that we needed each other. She had always been a little unpredictable, but when I continually rebuffed her advances, she really started behaving erratically. We’re talking full on bunny boiler style.’ He smiles at me, but I can’t smile back. She’s tried to kill him twice. This is no laughing matter.
‘Did she get pregnant on purpose?’
‘Probably.’
‘And she stabbed you?’
‘Yes.’
‘Did she go to prison?’
‘No.’
‘Why?’
He’s sighing again. ‘Her family got her help and kept her away from me in exchange for my silence.’
‘But look at the mess she made of you.’ I point to his old scar. ‘How did you pass that off?’
‘It’s pretty superficial. She did a better job this time.’ He looks down at his stomach.
‘You didn’t even go to hospital, did you?’ I’m horrified. That is one nasty scar and far from superficial. ‘Who stitched you up?’
‘Her dad. He was a doctor.’
‘Oh my God!’ I collapse onto the chair. ‘And where were your parents whilst all of this was going on?’ I sound like a lecturing fishwife, but holy shit, where does it end?
‘They’d already returned to Spain.’
‘Jesse…’ I snap my mouth shut, trying to think hard of what I can possibly say, before I blurt just anything. As always, I’m blank. This man renders me speechless on every level. ‘Your mum in Spain.’ I think hard. ‘Second chance?’ She wasn’t referring to Jake at all. She was referring to Jesse’s lost daughter—a chance for him to be a good father again.
‘You really do know everything now.’ His dry voice is still disjointed and his searching eyes are looking for mine but not falling where he knows them to be. ‘Are you leaving me?’
If my heart was breaking for him before, then now it’s just shattered. That simple, perfectly reasonable question and the unsure tone in which he’s asked it, has tears stabbing painfully at the backs of my eyes. ‘Look at me.’ I demand sharply, and he does, showing me unthinkable hurt. It cuts so deep and the tears roll freely. So do his. I know I’m his saviour now. I’m the key to redemption for him. I’m his angel. ‘Unbreakable.’ I weep, crushed by sadness for this man. Two weeks of emptiness has been flooded by happiness, but soon replaced with sorrow.
He gasps, but I’m not sure whether it’s in pain or relief. ‘Hold me.’ he begs, weakly lifting a heavy arm out to me. The no contact will be killing him, especially when he has to depend on me to feed his need.
Gingerly crawling onto the bed, I settle carefully around tubes and dressings. I’m pulled in closer. ‘Jesse, be careful.’
‘It hurts more if I’m not touching you.’