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)
I swallow, nearly taking my tongue with it. ‘A dating website?’ I splutter. John refuses to look at me. ‘You never said.’
Slowly, his gaze lands on me with evil intentions. He doesn’t have to speak a word. I’m copping it as soon as Elsie is out of the way. I can see a million threats in his narrowed eyes, all aimed at me.
Ava must sense his animosity, because she starts tugging my hand. ‘Let’s leave them to it.’
‘Thank you, girl,’ John rumbles, eyes still on me. His are dangerous. Mine are dancing.
‘We’ll join you for a coffee.’ I pull out a chair for Ava, having way too much fun watching the impenetrable big man squirm in his seat. ‘You don’t mind, do you, Elsie?’
‘Of course not!’ She moves her patchwork bag off the table. ‘How lovely to get to know some of John’s friends.’
The way John’s looking at me, I can tell he’s planning my demise. It’ll be slow and painful. And it doesn’t put me off one little bit.
I encourage Ava down into the chair, but she resists, somewhat reluctant. Maybe Elsie senses it, too, because she hops in and takes Ava’s hand. ‘I was saying to John,’ she begins, smiling across the table at him. ‘I own a well-being centre. Meditation, yoga, that kind of thing. It might help you, Ava. To relax the mind and find some inner calm during this difficult time.’ Her friendly face softens even more on my wife. ‘I hope you don’t mind me saying so.’
I nod thoughtfully to myself. Elsie looks like the bohemian type – all mind, body and soul. But the only relaxing my wife needs to do should involve me. ‘That’s—’
‘You really think so?’ Ava interrupts. ‘Because therapy isn’t doing a thing.’
‘Why, yes!’ Elsie looks excited by the prospect of helping Ava. ‘Meditation could be the perfect way to untangle all those thoughts and let the memories flow again. You should try it.’
Ava looks up at me, hopeful, maybe even as excited as Elsie at the prospect. We have yoga teachers at the club. If she really wants to try it, then I’ll get her on one of the classes. No sweat. ‘We’ll look into it,’ I assure her, returning my attention to John, keen to get some more squirming out of him. ‘So, a dating website, huh?’
Slowly, purposely slowly, he takes his shades to his face and covers his fuck-you glare. ‘Haven’t you got somewhere to be?’
‘Nope.’ I raise my hand to signal the waitress, looking to Elsie. ‘Which site did you find him on, Elsie? Date a Moody Bastard? Free to a Good Home?’ I chuckle when Ava smacks my arm, and Elsie giggles, too.
‘It was Twilight Love, actually.’ Reaching across the table for his hand, she squeezes it affectionately. ‘I knew the moment I saw his profile picture that there was cotton wool under all that steel. And I was right.’
‘Awwww.’ I place my hand over my heart and turn gooey eyes onto John. ‘You big softy, you.’ He’s going to lay me out soon.
‘We should go,’ Ava says sternly, sensing the killer vibes emanating from John’s big black body. She gives me a warning look to rival John’s. ‘I’m tired, Jesse.’
Just like that, I’m snapped out of my teasing mood. What am I thinking? She’s exhausted. Shit. ‘We’ll leave you two to it,’ I say, scanning Ava up and down.
‘Goodbye,’ John grunts.
‘It was lovely to meet you, Elsie.’ Ava pushes a smile through her exhaustion. ‘And thank you for your offer. I’ll think about it.’
‘Of course. John will give you my number if you decide you’d like to try it.’
As we wander over to the bike, Ava looks up at me, and I just know what’s coming. ‘I think I’d like to try yoga.’
‘We’ll talk about it when you’re not so tired.’ I brush off her statement for now. We’ve argued enough today.
Chapter 22
When we get home, Ava doesn’t head upstairs to take a nap. Instead, she goes straight to the kitchen and starts pulling open doors and drawers. I stand at the door watching her, unsure as to whether I should step in. I know exactly what she’s doing. Since we saw Sarah, she’s been visibly more stressed, swaying between worry and anger, and I can see her mind racing.
‘How am I supposed to recognise a woman who tried to steal my husband if I don’t even know where we keep the fucking mugs?’ A door slams, and she stills, though her body is rolling, fired up by her anger.
‘The mugs are in the top left-hand cupboard,’ I say quietly. ‘The plates in the bottom right-hand one. The knives and forks are in the drawer under the hob, and the breakfast cereals are in the pantry cupboard. In the morning, after I’ve made love to you, you come down and put on the coffee machine. Then you take a shower and get ready while it brews. You put a load of washing on around eight, and you make the kids’ lunches. You rub moisturiser cream into your hands every time you get them wet, and you always put the dishwasher on before you leave to take the kids to school and go to work. After dinner, you let me tidy up. That’s my job. To load the dishwasher while you help the kids with their homework. And when we’re done, we snuggle on the couch and watch some TV before you load the coffee machine for the morning and get the kids’ cereals laid out ready for when they’re up. Then I carry you to bed and make love to you.’ I pause for a beat, finding it so hard to say such simple things without letting my voice crack. ‘You fall asleep on my chest. I know if something is on your mind because you’re restless. Mostly, you don’t move from my chest all night. And when you wake up, you roll off me and I spoon you, waiting for you to push your arse into me. Waiting for you to tell me you’re ready to be woken up with some sleepy sex. And then we start all over again.’ I swallow and bite down on my back teeth, my devastation returning tenfold. All those simple things. Gone.