Page 226 of This Woman Forever
“You promised you’d never say that,” I whisper as she dries herself. Her hands stall briefly before she wraps herself in the towel and tucks the top in, looking up at me. I know my eyes are full of apologies. Hers are full of hopelessness.
“I’m late,” she murmurs, leaving, and my aching heart cracks painfully as I watch her go.
“Fuck it,” I breathe, running my hands through my hair, wetting it, finding some energy to wash. I can’t, however, find the energy to dress once I’ve dried off and scrubbed my teeth. Instead, I sit on the bed while Ava gets herself ready for work, ignoring me, my mind circling on loop with millions of apologies, trying to figure out how to voice them.
And then she’s ready and leaving. Fuck. I dive up and put myself in the doorway, stopping her. But not touching her. “Baby, my heart’s splitting,” I say, willing her to forgive yet something else from my shitty past that’s infiltrating our lives. “I hate fighting with you.”
“We’re not fighting.” She can’t even look at me. “You need to get the code on the elevator changed,” she says, cold and harshly. “And find out how she got up here too.” That’s a good point. Why the fuck would Clive do that?
She’s past me before I know it, and I’m instinctively going after her. Instinct. Shit, I’m back to depending on that. I reach for her and catch her wrist, stopping her from making her escape. “I will,” I assure her. I’ll also be tearing Clive a new arsehole, but for now I have more important matters to contend with. And I’m rooting for instinct. “We need to make friends.”
“I’m dressed,” she sighs. “We are not making friends now.”
I smile, loving that’s where her mind goes. “Not properly, no,” I say, making her face me. “But don’t make me spend all day knowing that you’re not talking to me,” I beg, getting on my knees. “The days are long enough already.”
She looks down at my sorry form on a sigh. “I’m talking to you.”
“Then why are you sulking?” I ask.
“Because a woman has just invaded our home and tried to stake a claim on you, Jesse,” she says, irritable, like I’m asking a dumb question. Which I know I am. “That is why I’m sulking.”
“Come here,” I order, not giving her a chance to protest, pulling her down and cuddling her. She doesn’t fight me. I’m taking that as a good sign. “I love it when you trample.”
“It’s tiring,” she mumbles. “I really need to go.”
“Okay.” I’ll take that. “Tell me we’re friends,” I order, holding her face. God, she does look tired. I decide here and now that I’m picking her up from work on Friday and taking her back to Paradise. No arguments.
“We’re friends,” she breathes, exasperated.
“Good girl.” I beam at her, happy, but I am mentally plotting the demise of Coral for causing this shitshow. “We’ll make friends properly later. Go get your breakfast. I’ll be two minutes.”
“I need to go, it’s eight thirty already.”
“Two minutes,” I say, standing us up. “You’ll wait for me.”
“Hurry up then,” she snaps, pushing me on. I quickly find my phone and answer John’s missed calls on my way to the dressing room.
“Morning,” I say, holding my phone to my ear as I drop my towel and pull on some boxers. “What’s up?”
“Did I just see Coral leaving?”
“Yes, you won’t believe the fucking morning I’ve had.”
He laughs. “I bet I will.”
He couldn’t possibly. “We’re coming.” I hang up and rush into my suit, trying to call Sam, just needing to vent. But the fucker doesn’t answer. So I try Drew. Nothing. “Where are your fucking friends when you need them?” I mutter, stuffing my feet into my brogues and pulling a tie off the rack, fixing it as I head back down.
“Here he is,” Cathy sings. “And he’s dressed.” She wrinkles her nose, a cheeky glint in her old eyes.
“I’m dressed.” I chuckle. “As is my beautiful wife.” And doesn’t she look beautiful today?.
“Can I go to work now?” she asks on a roll of her eyes.
“Have you taken your folic acid?” I ask, sorting my collar, aware that despite being grumpy with me, she’s still admiring me.
“Yes.”
“Have you had your breakfast?” I ask, and she indicates a bag. I can’t put my foot down. If she feels anything like me, this morning has chased away any appetite. “You better eat that.” I seize her hand. “Say goodbye to Cathy.”