Guilty. As. Charged.
I hold my finger to my nose, trying to think of a way to wriggle out of this. Of all the things she could have remembered? ‘“Stole” is a very harsh word.’ There’s no way out.
‘What word would you use, then?’ Her bare feet are treading the carpet.
‘Do you need the toilet?’ Or is she starting to stagger?
‘Don’t change the subject.’ Her mumbled words are getting hard to decipher. ‘Why’d you steal them?’
This again? I force my eye-roll into hiding and go and collect her before she face plants on the carpet. Lifting her into my arms, I take her up to bed. ‘Because I was madly in love with you and I thought you’d leave me when you found out my dirty little secrets.’
Her scoff takes some effort. ‘You mean your sex club. And the fact you’re an alcoholic. And the fact that you were a manwhore?’
‘Yes, all of that,’ I say, taking the stairs. And a whole pile of other shit, too. ‘Now, are you done?’
‘I had a wonderful night!’ she sings, throwing her head back and her arms up, forcing me to shift my hold or risk her tumbling from my arms. I guess that’s a yes. ‘And do you know what?’ She levels a straight face on me.
Do I want to know? ‘What?’
‘I fancy you so much,’ she mumbles, her head falling onto my shoulder.
‘I should hope so.’
‘Why, because you’re my husband?’
‘No, because I’m fucking hot.’
A hysterical bout of laughter erupts, and I’m forced to shush her before she wakes the kids. Too late. We meet a sleepy-looking pair when we get to the top of the stairs. ‘Go back to bed,’ I tell them as they mirror each other, rubbing at their drowsy eyes. ‘Mum’s just a little drunk.’
‘A little?’ Jacob looks as disapproving as I feel, though Maddie seems amused.
‘I’m a lot drunk,’ Ava declares, wriggling free of my arms. I grumble as I set her on her feet, holding her arm tightly. ‘And I love you two!’
‘Oh God.’ Maddie cringes when Ava lavishes her with affection. ‘Mum, please!’
‘You’re the best things that ever happened to me.’ She turns her attention onto an alarmed Jacob.
‘Don’t tell Dad that,’ my boy quips drily, letting Ava do what she’s going to do. ‘I think it’s your bedtime, Mum.’
‘I think so, too.’ She pulls Jacob into her and squeezes him, his cheeks all squished against her chest. ‘You’re just as handsome as your dad.’
‘I know,’ he mumbles, rolling his eyes at me. Maddie can’t contain her amusement, chuckling to herself.
‘Come on.’ I claim my drunken wife before she makes even more of a show of herself, flicking my head to the kids for them to get back to bed. Their smiles are fond as I walk Ava to the bedroom, her steps clumsy. ‘In you get.’ I unzip the back of her dress and lower her to the sheets. She proceeds to writhe around the bed. ‘Keep still.’
‘Are you going to fuck me, Jesse Ward? I’ll scream real loud.’
‘Behave, lady.’ I chuckle, dragging the gold material down her body and casting it aside. ‘Underwear.’
Her arms catapult upward, landing on the pillows. ‘Strip me bare.’
‘I did that years ago. Right down to your soul.’
She quiets down a little, squinting to look at me. ‘I missed you tonight.’
‘Good.’ When she’s down to just her skin, I remove my shorts and climb in beside her, ignoring the stench of alcohol oozing from her pores. I remain still while she finds her favourite place on my chest, flopping down heavily on a deep sigh. I wrap her in my arms and smile to myself as her breathing becomes shallow.
‘And now I’ll miss you while I’m asleep.’ Her murmured words are just what I need to hear. She’s glad to be back. With me.
Chapter 48
Ava had a terrible hangover the next day. I was smug. Couldn’t help it. But a few days later she still looked washed out. Of course, I put the call in to her doctor to check I wasn’t missing something, and he assured me all was well. Just something going around, apparently. She’s now been laid up for nearly a week, though she managed to go to yoga yesterday. I was sceptical, but she insisted. I even let her go for a coffee with that new friend of hers. See? I can be reasonable.
I look at the kids as they eat their breakfast, thinking they look a little pasty, too. Or am I being paranoid?
‘You two feeling okay?’ I ask.
They both nod, barely even looking at me, their eyes glued to their iPads instead. I wander over and snatch the tablets from their hands, earning a couple of disgruntled moans. ‘Shower. We have Uncle Drew’s wedding to go to.’
They grumble, both dragging their feet as they go.
‘Good little children.’ I smirk as they both give me the death stare before they disappear. Ava’s phone rings, and I swipe it up from the side table, looking at the screen as I make my way upstairs to my check up on my wife.
‘Zara,’ I muse, connecting the call. Time for me to introduce myself to this new friend. ‘Hi.’ I hear a few rustles, and then the phone goes dead. I frown down at the screen as a text message lands.
Call me when you’re free. Just checking how you’re feeling.
I take the liberty of answering for Ava.
It’s Jesse. Ava’s husband. We’re on our way to a wedding. I’ll get her to call you tomorrow.
Ah! The famous husband. I’ve heard lots about you ;-)
Did she just fucking wink at me? I give the phone a dubious glare, wondering what exactly Ava’s been telling her that warrants a wink. I don’t know, but I make a mental note to ask.
I’m surprised when I find Ava sitting in front of the mirror, straightening her hair. ‘You look perkier.’ I chuck her phone on the bed and lower to the floor behind her, framing her with my knees, shifting in close until my groin is wedged up close to her lower back. ‘Your yoga friend just texted you. I told her you’d call her tomorrow.’
‘You read and answered my message?’ she asks in shock.
‘Yes.’ I show no remorse, because I have none. ‘So what have you been telling this Zara about me?’
Ava’s eyes narrow playfully as she sweeps her cheeks with a make-up brush, adding a glow to her cheekbones. ‘That you’re a god. That you’re possessive, unreasonable and controlling, but it’s all because you love me with every bone in your body.’
‘And every drop of blood in my veins,’ I add, giving her a devilish smirk, but it falls when I notice she doesn’t return it. She’s looking pensive. ‘Hey, what’s up?’ Is she worried about the wedding? The public appearance in front of so many people? I don’t think it could be that. She’s seemed okay this past week, her bug aside. Sometimes quiet, but that’s to be expected. I’ve got used to her losing herself in her thoughts every now and then, concluding that she’s trying to recall something. There have been no monumental breakthroughs in her memories. We’ve just kind of fallen back into life. And it’s been good. Relatively normal, aside from the odd thing she forgets every now and then. According to her doctor, that’s normal, too.
I can’t deny, though, I still feel so uncertain about so many things. Yet one thing I’m sure of is our beautiful, unrelenting love. But love isn’t always beautiful. Sometimes it’s tragic. Most of the time it’s tragic. It cuts you up, tears you apart, fucking suffocates you, but it’s the only thing that can put you back together again. It’s a sadistic bastard as well as the most enriching, comforting thing in this world. And that’s what I’ve survived on – my love, our love, because if I’ve learned anything, it’s that time stops for no one. Life continues no matter if you’re happy with where yours has been or where it is heading. You can’t stop it. You just have to tilt the scale and make it the best it can be. Change the direction towards somewhere you want to go.