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)
“Thank you, Doctor,” she says, taking my arm.
“Thank you, Doctor,” I mimic, letting her lead me from the room.
The next thing I know, I’m outside in the fresh air and John is staring at me. I turn around and look at the hospital exit. She’s been discharged. Because everything is all right.
“You okay?” he asks, pulling my attention back his way.
“What?” I reply.
He looks at Ava. She’s still smiling.
“What’s going on?” he asks.
“We just had some news,” Ava goes on. We did? What news? What did I miss? “I’m expecting twins.”
“What?” I blurt, and she laughs.
And John? He looks momentarily dazed. Then he explodes with laughter, joining my irritating twin brother. It’s the kind of laugh on the big man that comes once in a blue moon. Today, apparently, is a blue moon. “Let’s get you home.” He chuckles over his words and opens the back door to his Range Rover.
I climb in and stare at the picture the whole way home while Ava rides up front with John. I vaguely hear them chatting. How lovely. Why the hell isn’t she flipping her lid? She was mad enough when I trapped her with one baby. Delighted now because it’s two? Six weeks.
I blink and look at the door when it opens.
We’re home? I remember none of the journey. I heard none of the conversation. Ava looks at me, eternally amused, apparently, and reaches in to the car. I follow her hand to the clip of my seatbelt, releasing it. I slip out and Ava links arms with me. I look up and around.
“I’ll call you,” she says.
“Call who?” I ask.
“Me.”
I look back and see John getting back in his Range Rover. “Oh, hey,” I say. He shakes his head.
“We should talk when you’re ready.” He suddenly looks stressed. Why is he—
Oh fuck.
It all comes flooding back. My car. The accident. Multiple cars hit. Someone tried to hurt Ava. “Yeah,” I murmur, checking her up and down. She’s okay. We’re all okay.
I let Ava walk me on, my eyes down again, studying the picture. All four of us are okay. Is it those two blurry blobs to the left of the tunnel? If I squint, they’re a little clearer. Like peas.
“Sit.”
“What?” I look up and see we’re in our kitchen. A stool is in front of me. Dazed, I drop onto it and place the picture on the marble. I’ve seen one of these before. A scan picture. Except when my ex-wife had her first scan, she was over twelve weeks pregnant. And I could see Rosie as clear as I could see Lauren’s intentions. Vividly. This scan picture isn’t the same. And although I feel terrible for having such thoughts, I can’t stop myself from having them. When I looked at Rosie’s scan picture all those years ago, I felt cornered. Trapped. But when I look at this picture, I only feel an incredible sense of relief and freedom. I suddenly have three people to look after and protect. That’s more than a full-time job. Twins. That’s a full-time job for both of us. Fuck . . . me. They’re safe and warm, cooking in their mummy’s belly right now. But when they’re here? She’ll need me more than ever.
I feel something on my face—a hand—and it forces my eyes away from the picture. I frown when I see Ava has wet hair and has changed. She’s showered and put on those ridiculous pants I bought her in Camden. The ones I remember thinking would pass as maternity pants. And now they are. My God.
“Are you going to speak anytime soon?” she asks, searching my eyes.
Speak? “I can’t fucking breathe, Ava,” I whisper. I’m absolutely gobsmacked.
Her smile is small and unsure. “I’m shocked too.”
Shocked? She’s never known shock. Maybe. Perhaps. I don’t fucking know. I mean, I’ve delivered some corkers to this woman during our time together but, somehow, this just feels like a catalyst to a bigger picture that I one hundred percent know I don’t want my wife to see.
I look at her, this young, uncomplicated, normal woman, who is now married to a man that practically stalked her and got her knocked up in a weird and wonderful plan to keep her forever. With twins, no less.
You always did do things in style, bro.
I hope she’s ready for this. I also hope she remains upright, because I still can’t feel my arms and legs, so catching her might be a challenge.
I take in air. Brace myself.
Do it, do it, do it, Jake chants. The fucker. But I smile, knowing he’s enjoying this. Loving the notion that I am his entertainment.
And that he’s looking after my little girl for me.
And he’s right. Ava needs to know about him. She needs to understand my wonder and just how truly incredible this is. It was meant to be.