With This Man Read Online Jodi Ellen Malpas (This Man #4)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic, Romance Tags Authors: Series: This Man Series by Jodi Ellen Malpas
Advertisement1

Total pages in book: 167
Estimated words: 157175 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 786(@200wpm)___ 629(@250wpm)___ 524(@300wpm)
<<<<192937383940414959>167
Advertisement2


She doesn’t reprimand me on my curtness. ‘No progress, then?’

I sigh, long and tiredly. ‘I keep getting glimmers of hope. Small things that make my heart leap with promise. And then they disappear, my hope dies, and I’m back to square one.’

‘I know it’s not your forte, but you need to be patient, Jesse. Like the doctor said, there’s a cog in her mind that’s jammed.’

‘And it keeps jittering and then grinding to a stop again. It’s so fucking frustrating.’

‘You’re frustrated?’ She laughs a little. ‘Imagine how Ava must be feeling, Jesse. She’s woken up with a husband and two kids and sixteen years of her life missing.’

Guilt. It sweeps right in and cripples me. ‘I know.’ I rub my forehead, like I can wipe away the stress. ‘I can see it all in there, Kate. It’s all in there, I just need her to remember it.’ What if she never feels the connection and emotion she did when we met? No matter how much I might try to describe it to her, it won’t be as intense and crippling as it was back then. How it always is. It won’t bond us in the same way, and now more than ever I need that bond.

‘She’ll remember. Don’t give up.’

‘Never,’ I vow, hoarse through the despair blocking my throat. Despair I’m quite sure I’m not hiding very well.

‘How about dinner one night? All of us. Drew and Raya are game.’

‘Yeah,’ I agree half-heartedly. I’m not all that enthusiastic about sitting around a table with friends so they can see how much of a stranger I am to my wife. ‘Let me know when.’

‘I will. Keep it together, Jesse. It’s no wonder she doesn’t recognise you. I barely do myself.’ She hangs up with those words still lingering in the air.

‘Jesus,’ I breathe, dropping my phone to the couch, so caught in conflict. I replay all those little glimmers of hope that Ava’s given to me, words that have come from nowhere, but have been quickly snatched away with a frown or muddled look on her face. The soaring happiness followed quickly by unrelenting hurt.

My eyes fall to the drinks cabinet across the room again, the bottle of clear liquor enticing me, pulling me in with promises of respite. ‘Keep it together,’ I say to myself, forcing my heavy body up from the couch. I lock up the house and make my way upstairs, my eyes nailed to our bedroom door as I wander to the spare room. Another night without her sprawled all over my chest. Another night missing her warmth.

Another night with the biggest piece of me missing from my side.

Chapter 16

Ava

The past few days, all I’ve had to do is think. Think and go to therapy and think some more. I’m sick of thinking. I’m sick of the headaches from thinking too hard. The last I remember, I was dating a guy named Matt. I even remember talks of moving in together. So what happened? And what about the career I was working so hard for? I work for my husband. Live with my husband. It’s obvious I’m always kept close by. Is that normal? Is it healthy?

I sigh and turn over in bed, catching sight of the clock on the table. It’s eight o’clock. I can hear clatters and bangs coming from the kitchen. Last night he tried to undress me. I couldn’t help but flinch when he touched my bare skin, not just because I was surprised. My flesh seemed to ignite, and though it was like nothing I’d felt before, somehow I know that I have. In that moment, I was alarmed by my reaction. Scared by it. I hardly know him. Yet my body does and it’s telling me every single day. There’s a connection. Something deep and almost debilitating. He’s devastating.

I close my eyes and try to wrap my mind around all the signs that I love him. Not just the tangible proof – the pictures, the children, what people have told me. But the invisible proof. Like my skipping heart when I see him. Like my heated skin when he touches me. Like a strange urge inside me to be close to him. Something clicks whenever I am, like when he hugs me in those big arms. He’s good at snuggling. He’s good at comforting me. He’s good at giving me space when I need it.

I stop that thought process right there and rewind. I don’t think he’s really very good at giving me space, and I really don’t know if I want it. I can see the strain on his face whenever he leaves the bedroom. And I feel the strain within me. Something isn’t right. He doesn’t seem right, and that’s a strange conclusion for me to reach when I don’t know him.


Advertisement3

<<<<192937383940414959>167

Advertisement4