Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 115737 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 579(@200wpm)___ 463(@250wpm)___ 386(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115737 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 579(@200wpm)___ 463(@250wpm)___ 386(@300wpm)
‘Just give me time,’ I whisper.
‘As much as you need.’ He pulls back, a small grin on his face, one that I can’t help but mirror. ‘I can do condoms. I just need you to know I’m ready when you are.’
‘Okay,’ I agree easily, as simple as that. Because I also know that if I am to have a child at all, then it should be with Jack. I stare into the grey eyes of a man who was forbidden. A man who should never have been touched. A man who wasn’t mine. ‘I draw the line at four babies,’ I murmur. His smile. God, his smile. It’s bright, almost dazzling, and it’s pouring with hope and love. The biggest piece of my broken heart slides back into place. Jack’s smile symbolises our life. And the lives of our children. It symbolises happiness. And freedom.
‘I want six.’
I ignore the searing pain that bombards me when I throw myself at him. ‘I love you,’ I sob like a fool into him. ‘I love you so much.’
‘Thank you.’ He holds me like I would collapse if he releases me. I would, but not with pain or exhaustion. I’d collapse with a happiness that’s almost too intense to comprehend. Like most things I have with Jack. ‘Come on, then. I’m taking you out.’
‘Where are we going?’
‘It’s a surprise.’ He drops a kiss on my nose and releases me gingerly. ‘Want some help getting dressed?’
‘What am I wearing?’
He takes my hand and leads me to my wardrobe, then proceeds to flick through my rails of clothes. ‘This.’ He pulls out an oversized Ralph Lauren shirt. ‘With these.’ And some skinny jeans. So nowhere fancy, then.
Slowly and carefully, he helps me get dressed and oversees me applying the first bit of make-up I’ve worn in weeks. ‘My hair?’ I ask, frowning at my mane. It could do with a cut and colour.
He pulls the hair-tie off my wrist and gathers up my long dark hair, securing it in a messy ponytail.
‘Perfect.’
I wouldn’t say that, but it’s an improvement on the ragged mess I’ve been sporting since finding myself in hospital. ‘And my feet?’
‘Something comfortable.’ He rests his big, strong palms on my shoulders and massages lightly for a few pleasurable moments.
I close my eyes and soften under his touch. ‘That feels nice,’ I sigh.
‘Come on, before you fall asleep.’ Leaving me at the mirror, he pulls some jeans on and a T-shirt over his head. ‘Ready?’
I nod, slip my feet into my Converses and frown down at my untied laces. Jack’s kneeling in front of me, taking care of it, before I can even try to bend down. I smile down at the back of his head, feeling grateful instead of useless. His care. His attention. It’s easy to accept, because it’s Jack.
Chapter 30
I suspect I know where we’re heading when Jack gets us out of the city, but I keep quiet, happy to let him take charge of where we’re going and what we’re doing. It’s something I never dreamed I would be content with: letting someone else look after me. It just feels right, not because I’m an invalid at the moment and can’t carry out the simplest of tasks, but because it’s how we are supposed to be. His hand remains tightly held around mine in my lap for the entire journey, my head relaxed back as I stare at him, take him in, try to come to terms with the fact that he is mine. All of him. He wants it all, and he wants it all with me. Despite my lingering pain, physically and emotionally I don’t think I’ve ever been happier in my life. And it’s all because of this man. This beautiful, wonderful man.
The final turn Jack takes confirms I was right about where we’re going. ‘My parents’?’ I ask as Dad’s Jaguar comes into view, shiny as ever on the driveway. ‘What are we doing here?’
‘Visiting,’ Jack says, simple as that, as he pulls up outside my mum and dad’s house.
Visiting? When I asked to be let out into the big wide world, I was thinking a bit further than my parents’ house. Unclipping my seat belt, I wait for Jack to open my door and help me out, forcing back my hiss of pain as I rise from my seat. He curls an arm around my waist and walks me up the path to the front door. Mum, as always, answers before we can knock. She has a tea towel in her hand, a smile on her face.
‘Annie, darling.’
‘Hi, Mum.’ I let her claim me from Jack and hug me, and boy does she hug me. ‘Not so tight.’
‘Oh, I’m sorry! It’s just so good to see a bit of life in you.’ She helps me into the hallway, and the usual homely scent of her cooking fills my nostrils. And the sound of voices fills my ears.