Total pages in book: 167
Estimated words: 157175 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 786(@200wpm)___ 629(@250wpm)___ 524(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 157175 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 786(@200wpm)___ 629(@250wpm)___ 524(@300wpm)
Flicking some music on, an obvious ploy to kill the silence, he races off down the street with ‘Sweater Weather’ blaring, tapping the wheel in time to the music.
Until there is no music. He peeks out the corner of his eye as I turn in my seat, my face twisted with disdain. ‘Are you telling me you’re never going to let me drive again?’
‘Yep.’ He flicks the music back on, and I quickly turn it back off. Is he mad?
‘No way, Jesse. You can’t stop me.’
He half coughs, half laughs. ‘Watch me.’ He presses a button on the steering wheel and fills the car with The Neighbourhood again.
‘Watch me,’ I counter over the music, throwing myself back in the seat. ‘If you won’t let me drive anywhere, then I’ll make my own way around, starting today. I’ll get the Tube home. You’re being unreasonable. It was an accident. A one-in-a-million chance. You’re being stupid.’
‘Stupid?’ he coughs. ‘Well, that one-in-a-million chance was my wife, so forgive me if my protective instinct has taken on new heights.’ He slams the button on his steering wheel and shuts the music off, then pulls the car over to the side of the road, prickling from top to toe. So unreasonable. He reaches for my slighted face and turns it towards him. My eyes are thin slits of pissed off. His are narrower.
‘Listen to me, lady,’ he orders, nostrils flaring and all. ‘It is my job to protect you. There’s nothing irrational about wanting to keep you safe, Ava.’ His voice has softened to a mere whisper, his eyes clouding, and I know it’s because he’s thinking about what could have been. ‘Every fear I’ve ever had nearly became a reality. I nearly lost you. So don’t you tell me that I’m being unreasonable or irrational or stupid, do you hear me? You have to let me do my thing or I’ll go crazy mad.’
‘And I’ll go crazy mad if you suffocate me. I need some space, Jesse. If you want me to fall in love with you again, you need to let me do that without stifling me.’ I hate the hurt in his green eyes. Hate it.
His handsome face is splashed with agony, and he swallows, anger mixed up in his expression, too. ‘You can get the Tube.’
I can get the Tube? Like I need permission? Fucking hell, he really is crazy mad. But I still nod, despite being staggered on the inside. ‘Good.’ I sit back and stare out the window as Jesse gets us going again. And I wonder . . .
How did I fall in love with such craziness?
I don’t know. But it’s happening again, and I couldn’t stop it if I tried.
*
The usual peace blankets me when I arrive at Elsie’s. Zara is already waiting in the studio, sitting on her mat. She looks like a pro, all geared up in what I expect is designer yoga gear. ‘I’m feeling a bit frumpy,’ I say, rolling out my mat next to her.
She laughs, soft and low. ‘You look anything but frumpy, Ava.’ She rolls her eyes. ‘I was just passing through the shopping mall and they had a huge sale. Oh!’ She jumps up and scrounges through her bag. ‘I got you one, too.’ She flaps out a black top. ‘You look about the same size as me.’
‘Zara, you shouldn’t have,’ I say, taking the shirt from her hand and kissing her cheek.
‘Give over,’ she brushes it off. ‘It was a fiver in the bargain bin.’
‘I love it.’ Something comes to me. ‘Hey, we should go shopping sometime.’ I will pick my own clothes. My recent shopping adventure might have turned out wonderfully, but that was only because my brain decided to let me remember something. I realise it could have been very different.
Her eyes sparkle. ‘Oh my God, yes.’
‘Come on, chatterboxes.’ Elsie floats across the room, giving us a playful, disapproving look. ‘It doesn’t sound very peaceful in here today.’
I give Zara an oopsie look, and we both settle on our mats and close our eyes.
Peace. It’s quickly found again, and I let it roll over me.
Towards the end of the session, I’m flat on my back, sprawled out, my body weightless. I’m completely zoned out, so calm, so when images start to flicker through my mind, I don’t jerk with shock or panic. Instead, I remain still, absorbing the distorted, blurry visions as if I’m watching them from an old-fashioned projector. Visions of Jesse, and for the first time, of Maddie and Jacob. I feel my eyes squeezing, trying to hold on to the picture of them lying on Jesse’s chest, tiny little bundles, their daddy’s face buried between their heads. I feel a tear trickle down the side of my face, swishing around in my ear. And then the images are gone. But they’re not gone. They will never be gone.