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 feel sorry for her?”
This isn’t just a simple case of feeling sorry for her. God, there’s so much more to it. And yet . . . context. “Ava,” I beg, as she refills her glass. I’m not surprised, her throat must be really fucking dry and really fucking sore. “First of all, I want you to calm down because it’s not good for you or the babies.”
“I am calm!” she screams, now going blue in the face.
Oh, enough is enough. She’s going to burst a fucking blood vessel. I swipe the glass from her hand, ignoring her gasp of shock, and slam it down before lifting her onto the worktop. Taking her jaw in my grip, mine rolls, my glare as real as hers.
“Sarah has nothing,” I explain. “I kicked her out when she came clean and thought no more of it.” Fuck, I didn’t want to share this. I hoped Ava was comfortable enough with the reassurance that Sarah will stay away from her. “Until John spoke with her and she was saying all kinds of fucked-up shit,” I go on, loosening my hold of her jaw when she withdraws, her scowl turning into questioning. “The most worrying part mentioning death being better than living her life without me.”
“Attention seeker,” she fires, her scowl back.
Of course her mind would go there. But can I blame her? “I thought so too,” I admit. “But John wasn’t so sure. He found her. She’d slashed her wrists and taken a pile of painkillers.” She loses all animosity in a heartbeat and, I can’t lie, I’m really fucking relieved. “It was no cry for help, Ava. There was no attention seeking about it. John only just got her to the hospital in time. She wanted to die.”
She’s been shocked into silence, just staring at me in disbelief.
“I don’t want another death on my conscience, baby,” I whisper. “I live with Jake’s every single day. I can’t do it.”
“She came to see me,” Ava says quietly.
“She told me, but I’m surprised you never mentioned this before.”
“I didn’t think it was important.” Her shoulders lift on a little shrug, and my previous thoughts are ignited. Was it that meeting between them that had Ava rushing to The Manor and confessing about the pregnancy?
It’s possible, but I won’t push that. And since we’re putting some cards on the table . . . “It was Sarah who told Matt about my drinking.”
Oh, her scowl. “Is that how you knew I was collecting my clothes from Matt’s too?”
“She said she’d overheard you on the phone, telling someone you were intending on picking your stuff up. I was too mad to piece it together. I saw red, acted on impulse, and asked questions later.”
“She said she couldn’t work for you anymore, so how come she is?”
“I asked her.” Not fucking true but, again, a small white lie for the sake of my wife’s contentment. “I’ll never find someone else to do the job, which means I’ll have to do it, and I’m not prepared to give up my time with you. And you should know, she only accepted on the condition that you were okay with it.” What the fuck am I saying? Bending truths just a bit. But, again, I don’t need Ava to hate Sarah more for pretty much forcing me into a corner. No more death.
“You’re not giving me much of a choice,” she mutters.
It’s not about having a choice. It’s about having compassion.
“I’ll tell her it’s a no-go,” I say, taking her cheeks. Did I completely underestimate the level of hatred I’m dealing with?
Yes. Tell her about Rebecca.
“I’m not prepared to see you so unhappy.”
Her entire being folds before me, the reasonable woman I know, fighting past the emotional, unreasonable firecracker. “No,” she sighs. “I want you with me more than I want her gone.”
And there it is. The end game. Us, together, all the fucking time. She wants me around all the time. “You do?”
“Of course I do.” Her nose wrinkles, and I smile, because I know she knows she might regret saying that. “But you have to promise me something.”
“Anything. You know that.”
“When the babies arrive,” she says, as I coat her forehead in kisses. “You won’t be at The Manor day and night. You’ll be with me as often as you can.” Oh, my heart sings its happiness. The end of this trip is turning out better than I hoped, considering where we were last night. I pull away, holding her face, scanning her worried eyes. “I don’t know if I can do this,” she whispers.
She can do anything, and so can I, because I have her. “Ava, you’ll have to bury me six feet under before I have it any other way. You can do it because you have me.” I pull her into my chest, hugging the shit out of her as she wraps every limb around my upper body. Clinging on. Suddenly, all I can see is Owen Cutler, and all I can think about is the meeting he wants. “We’re going to be okay.”