Page 192 of This Woman Forever

My eyes move to Dad, and he quickly drops his stare to the gravel. Unable to look at me. Ashamed? “I can’t,” I say, resolute. “This is my home now.” I turn and walk back up the steps into The Manor, passing Carmichael. My head is banging. There’s only one cure. “Vodka, please, Mario,” I say, ignoring the fact that he’s just glanced at the clock. He looks past me rather than gets me my drink, and I crane my neck to see Uncle Carmichael in the doorway. “What did she think would happen?” I ask, turning away from his expressionless face. “I’d pack my bags, all forgiven, and hop on a plane to Spain with them? Why the hell are they going to Spain, anyway?”

“Too many bad memories here for them, perhaps,” he says.

I wince. Bad memories that I created. I’m just one huge disappointment. Why the fuck would they even want me to go? No, this is for the best. They can plough all of their love and energy into Amalie.

I look at Mario. He’s still not getting me my drink. And I realize...

I face Carmichael, tilting my head. “It’s not even ten,” he says. “I’m all for you letting your hair down, Jesse, but you will always control your compulsions.” He leaves the bar and me to mull over his words. “Control is imperative. And you have a child on the way.”

“So do you,” I yell, not appreciating the reminder.

“And I control my compulsions,” he calls back.

I slam my fist down on the bar, looking at Mario. He shakes his head and gets back to his stocktake. Fuck him. Fuck Lauren. Fuck her for trapping me. Fuck my parents for forcing me to marry her. Fuck Carmichael for not defending me just then. And more than anything, fuck me for being such a fucking letdown.

“I hope you’re happy in Spain,” I mutter. “Thanks for abandoning me.”

My eyes open to darkness, my skin cool. I’m in bed? I squint, my eyes adjusting to the moonlight streaming through the window, casting shadows across the bedroom. And...

I can smell her.

Ava.

I turn my head on the pillow and see her silhouette curled up next to me. I don’t remember the drive back to the villa. I don’t recall getting undressed. Getting into bed. But running into Mum? I remember every torturous second of that. Every feeling. Every word.

And my heart hurts all over again.

I ease off the bed and find my clothes in a pile on the floor. I crouch and get my mobile, wondering what the hell I’m doing. It’s there as I knew it would be. A missed call from Amalie. I close my eyes and push my phone into my forehead, jumping when it beeps.

They’ve never blamed you.

I huff, dropping it back on my clothes and rising, raking a hand through my hair. It’s my past. I can’t look back, only forward. I cast my eyes toward the bed.

Where my future lies, sleeping.

I go to her, easing her onto her back and snuggling up close to her warm body. Always so warm. Safe.

She is my home.

My future.

Everything I live and breathe for.

I won’t risk anything ruining us.

Never.

I wake up slowly, feeling her fingers combing through my hair. The warm air of my breath bounces off her neck back into my face. My thoughts are calm. My body relaxed. Ava knew who she was looking at last night before I spoke. She knew.

And she got me away.

“I would never have brought you here if I’d known,” I whisper, so full of regret. It’s been blissful, what we both needed. And now, it’s tarnished. “I never wanted my life with you to be stained by my past.” And hasn’t that been the whole fucking point? Protect Ava and at the same time protect myself. Keep this wild, pure, amazing thing we have exactly that.

“It hasn’t affected us,” she replies. “So please don’t let it.”

“They have no place in my life, Ava. Not before, and even less now.” It’s a second chance.

She nods slowly, understanding. But how could she ever? “You don’t need to explain anything to me,” she says, resolute. It hurts. Her devotion and commitment. “You and me.”

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