Total pages in book: 235
Estimated words: 224334 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1122(@200wpm)___ 897(@250wpm)___ 748(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 224334 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1122(@200wpm)___ 897(@250wpm)___ 748(@300wpm)
“Quack, quack, Daddy.”
I get up and go to her, kneeling to help her open the bag of seeds, but her little impatient hands tear it open, scattering the bird seed far and wide.
“Oopsie daisy.”
“Oopsie daisy,” I mimic quietly on a smile, as a gaggle of ducks waddle up from the water, ambushing us.
“Quack, quack.”
They peck, flap their wings, and squabble around our feet as Rosie giggles, flapping her arms, waddling around with them.
“Quack, quack.”
“Come here.” I scoop her up, out of the chaos crowding our legs, and swing her onto my shoulders. I peek up. She’s still flapping, quacking, laughing.
And it’s precious. So fucking precious.
* * *
“That your phone, mate?”
I look back and find a runner stretching, his foot wedged into a bin, lunging into it. Disorientated, I glance around seeing the low railings that’s between us, putting a barrier between the path and the lake, stopping people getting too close to the water. I’m standing on the edge of the lake, and I have no fucking clue how I got here. My heart kicks. I look up, feeling around my shoulders.
Gone.
My breath hitches, still feeling the weight of her there. “Shit.” I roughly wipe at my eyes, reversing my steps, and swing my leg over the railings, putting myself on the right side. I go to the bench and drop to the wood. I never dreamed I could feel the same level of adoration again. The peace. The purpose. Could I really have one last chance at happiness? And yet, it’s hanging in the balance, the threats to it relentless.
I feel around in my pocket and pull out my phone, along with the pouch Kate gave me.
Whatever it takes.
I wince and check the time. An hour has passed. And then I answer his call. “Jesse Ward,” I say coolly. Quietly.
“So when was the last time you fucked my wife?”
I don’t answer that question. Can’t answer that question. He knows, but I’ll be damned if I’m confirming. “Stay away from her, Mikael.”
“Or else?”
I have no or else, and he knows it. “And keep your wife away from me too.”
“Ex-wife. She’s returned to Denmark to see her mother. Licking her wounds, I expect.”
“She meant nothing to me, Mikael,” I say, needing him to know that. If that makes me sound like a heartless bastard, I’ll take it. If it makes me sound desperate, I’ll take it.
“Which time?”
I breathe in, locking down my muscles, forcing calm. “Stay away from Ava. Stay away from me.” I hang up, clenching my phone tightly. The space around me is busy now, my eyes allowing me to see real life. And feel it. But I want to stay with my baby girl, listening to her uninhibited giggles. But then I wouldn’t have Ava. How can love cause such mutinous conflict?
I consider the velvet pouch in my hand, clench my fist around it, stand, and walk back to my car.
I need to make friends with Ava. And I need to tell her about Mikael.
I just can’t go on like this.
25
I’ve sat outside The Manor, staring at the steering wheel for so long, it’s no longer a steering wheel. It’s a black blur of nothing. My playlist finished God knows how long ago, and my arse is dead. I’m forced to move when my phone rings in my back pocket, lifting my backside to pull it out. Steve. “Hi,” I say, settling back down.
“The white BMW is registered to a Matthew Gary Turner.”
Matt. My eyes burn into the glass windscreen before me, every inch of me stiffening. I’ve spent most of today feeling pretty fucking strung, my whole fucking body is now aching. “Matthew Turner,” I repeat, sounding surprisingly calm. Perhaps because I have no rage left inside me. Nothing left to give.
“That’s right,” Steve replies. “You know him?”
“Yeah, I know him.” I hang up, my mind chasing in circles around this new addition to my overflowing pot of shit. What the fuck is he doing hanging around The Manor?
Tap, tap, tap.
“Fucking hell,” I breathe, jumping in my seat.
“You gonna sit here all day?” Sam asks, opening my door for me. “You’ve been here for over an hour.”
I exhale and get out, stretching my body as I look up at The Manor, then at my watch. “I need to go,” I say, dropping back to the seat and pulling the door shut, starting the engine. It’s gone five. By the time I’ve battled my way back through the traffic to Lusso, it’ll be gone six. Ava will be home.
Sam pulls the door open again, and I fight with him to get it shut. “What the fuck’s going on?” he asks. “What’s wrong?” I turn tired eyes onto him, and he withdraws. “Shit, Jesse, you’ve got to tell her.”
I laugh. Yeah, just like that, tell the woman I love—the woman I’d die for—that I put my dick in two other women. “I might not have to.”