Total pages in book: 235
Estimated words: 227851 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1139(@200wpm)___ 911(@250wpm)___ 760(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 227851 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1139(@200wpm)___ 911(@250wpm)___ 760(@300wpm)
“You’re not staying?” I ask, alarmed. Alone with my parents?
“No, I don’t need to. You’ll be fine.” And without giving me a chance to plead my case, she disappears out of the door, leaving me alone.
I’ll be fine.
Will I?
My heart starts beating double time, and there is fuck all I can do to stop it. My fingers twiddle. Then I frown, feeling at my jaw. What the fuck is that. I roll my eyes, exasperated. Over two weeks’ worth of growth. I hardly look the part for a reunion. I must look like a Yeti. For fuck’s sake. Naked, wounded, hairy, pasty, dry lips, things dangling out of my body, and a fucking piss bag.
My chaotic trail of thoughts grind to a startled stop when the door opens. My chest expands. My heart picks up speed again. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I whisper.
And then Dad appears.
And I lose it.
Composure is gone, and I shake my head, my throat closing up on me, my eyes burning. “Oh, my boy,” he whispers, losing it with me.
Fuck.
I roughly wipe at my face, feeling so fucking pathetic, and then Mum appears, and I’m gone again, face streaming, shame and regret joining me at one of the most vulnerable points in my life. I can’t run. I can’t hide.
Can’t drink.
And I don’t want to.
“I’m so sorry,” I croak. “So, so fucking sorry. I didn’t mean the things I said. I didn’t hate you. I hated myself.”
Amalie, crying silently, holds on to Mum as Dad hurries over to my bed and takes me in his arms. Hugs me so hard, I can hardly breathe. But while it really fucking hurts, I need him more than I need the pain to fuck off.
“Son, no. It’s me who’s sorry,” he sobs.
“But—”
“No, no buts. We’ve had years agonizing over losing you. We just wanted to—” He sniffs. Mum weeps. “Love you, my boy. Have missed you so much.”
We’ve lost years. Fucking years.
They love me.
They’ve missed me.
His words? Words I never, ever thought I’d hear? They’re what I needed to hear. I never thought I’d feel their hugs again in my life. But they’re here. For me.
Something breezes through my body—not pain, not discomfort—but something I’ve never felt before.
Forgiveness.
Mum joins us, hugging Dad as Dad hugs me. All three of us a mess of snot and tears and sobs. And Amalie stands at the end of the bed watching us. Smiling mildly through her tears.
I’ve never really known her as a woman, only a little girl. And that’s really fucking tragic. I can tell she’s going to bust my balls often.
Fucking hell, what have I let myself in for?
Mum and Dad ease away gently, and Dad lowers to the chair next to my bed, close, both of his hands taking one of mine. Mum perches on the bed. Amalie comes round the side and punches me in my bicep, grinning.
I look between them, wondering where the fuck we start. “So the wedding,” Amalie, chirps, sitting too. “Now Dad’s getting better, and Jesse’s pulled his head out his arse, I was thinking the next few months.”
“Wonderful,” Mum says, starting to faff with my sheets, flattening them.
“Wonderful,” Dad murmurs, not taking his eyes off me. It’s as if he can’t believe he’s touching me. Looking at me.
“All right?” I ask softly.
“I’m perfect, son,” he whispers, his lip quivering again. “Perfect.”
Perfect.
I didn’t think the word truly existed until I met Ava. Not that she’s perfect, she’s far from it. I laugh on the inside. Really far from it. But us together?
It’s pretty fucking close.
And despite everything that’s happened, the only reason my mum and dad are sitting here now is because of her.
Because she made me brave.
She brought me to life.
She made a man worthy of love.
She made this man.
50
It’s the next day. If anyone tries to stop me getting out of this bed, they’ll be faced with force. I’m getting bedsores. My arse is dead. I want to go home.
“Your blood pressure is a little on the low side,” Nurse says, making a note of it.
I can feel Ava’s high brows aimed at me. “Makes a change,” she muses. “It’s usually high enough to blow his head off his shoulders.”
Casting an unimpressed look her way, I snarl quietly. Her lips twitch.
“A bit hotheaded, are you, Jesse?” Nurse chuckles, and Ava laughs.
Yes. Hilarious. “I’m going for a walk,” I grumble, pushing my fist into the mattress to get up.
“Ah, ah, ah,” Nurse warns, coming to the bed. Like she could stop me. “Mr. Emerson would like to see you first.”
I slump back down, exasperated, slamming my head on the pillow. Ava’s face appears, those eyebrows looking annoyingly high still. She’s finally showered. Finally eaten a stable meal. I made sure of it. After I apologized for being short with her. She looks so much better. I smile, reaching for her face and stroking her smooth, makeup-free cheek. “How’s my wife and babies this morning?”