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)
“It was a freak incident,” she protests, but I hear the doubt in her tone. “Someone playing stupid games. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time, that’s all. You’ll put yourself in a stress-induced coma at this rate.” She squeezes my hands, looking at me sorrowfully. Wrong place, wrong time. “Then what will I do?”
Then you’ll be free of my shady past. Free from my demons that are threatening to pollute you. I drop my eyes, shame engulfing me. I’ve done everything I can to ensure she can’t leave me. I realize nothing will be one hundred percent effective. But each and every thing I’ve done is something to help me prove I’m worth it. It will show me I’m still worthy of such treasures. But, and I keep going back to it, her face when the doctor asked her if she could be pregnant. Horror, disgust. It was rife. She doesn’t want kids. What I haven’t yet established is if that is now, never, or that she simply doesn’t want them with me.
“You looked relieved when the doctor said you weren’t pregnant.”
She stares at me in stunned silence for a few telling moments before she looks away. “I missed a pill,” she says quietly, and I’m thrown by it. She thinks she needs to prepare me for this possibility. Jesus, this is so fucked up. “I missed a few,” she adds. “I lost them again.”
“You’ve not replaced them?”
“I forgot.”
“Okay,” I say slowly, probably wrongly surprised. “So when did you last take your pill?”
“Only a few days ago.”
Her hand moves in mine. She’s lying. My heart starts to beat faster. How long has it been? “So you’ll replace them?” If it’s been a few days, although I expect it’s been longer, she really could be pregnant. I subtly breathe in, willing my racing heart to calm down.
“Tomorrow.”
And will she remember to take them? If you don’t steal them, yes. There’s nothing like a pregnancy scare to get your contraception on track. I don’t know what the fuck I’m thinking. Am I actually trying to justify my behavior? Pass the blame? I look up at her, right into her eyes, and I see it.
Questions.
Sudden comprehension.
“Jesse?” she says, her teeth sinking into her lip.
“What?” Fuck, she’s onto me.
Her eyes narrow as she regards me, definitely searching for guilt. “Nothing,” she eventually says, relaxing. But something tells me I’m not off the hook. Or maybe she thinks it’s so outlandish, she’s dismissed her suspicion.
“Your brother rang,” I say quickly, and it has the desired effect. She looks very worried all of a sudden.
“Dan?” she asks. “You spoke to him?”
“Well, I couldn’t leave it ringing constantly. He would have been worried.” I scowl. “And why is there a lock on your phone?”
“It didn’t stop you answering, though, did it?” she retorts, amused but not. “What did you say to my brother?”
“I didn’t tell him what had happened. I don’t want your family thinking that I can’t look after you. He said you were supposed to be seeing him.”
Her expression is all kinds of worried, suspicious, and impatient. “You told him I’m living with you, didn’t you?”
“Yes.”
If her popping eyes are a measure, she obviously wasn’t expecting honesty. “Jesse,” she moans, collapsing into my body. “What have you done?”
I’ve started moving this relationship along at a reasonable rate, and it’s time to meet the parents. “Hey, look at me.” I force her face up. “Don’t you think he would’ve been worried if I had left your phone to ring off continuously?”
She has no answer to that. She knows I’m right. She still sighs, though, as if I’m the exasperating one. I can’t be bothered to argue anymore. I’m so fucking exhausted. But still, the toxic energy inside lingers, and I really need to be rid of it. My legs are itching to move. My heart itching to beat fast and hard. “I’m going for a run,” I say, feeling her stiffen in my arms. She thinks I want to drag her along. As if. Her body needs some recovery time and, actually, I need some alone time. Is she pregnant? “You take a shower. I’ll get something to eat while I’m out.”
“Can’t you stay?”
“No.” I stand her up and take her into the bathroom. “In the shower.” I get out of there feeling forlorn and deflated, wondering why today I’m taking running over being close to Ava.
I hate the answer.
Guilt.
* * *
I run like a crazy man. I still feel like one. She’s definitely suspicious, and for the first time, I consider what she might do if she finds out she’s not mislaid her pills on those few occasions, but they were instead taken. I also never considered she’d forget to replace them. I also never considered that I’d reach a point of complete regret and remorse. I felt guilty. I knew what I was doing, but I still felt guilty. It’s being superseded by regret now. All I’ve achieved is giving her one more reason to leave me. I have to stop this madness.