Page 223 of This Woman Forever

“I’m not hungry.”

“Ava,” I breathe, feeling my patience fraying. Not with her, but with the fucking nutter on the other side of this door who is hellbent of making my life a fucking misery. “You didn’t eat last night,” I point out. “Go and have some breakfast.”

“I said, I’m not hungry.”

Coral continues to try and push her way in, and Ava continues to stand her ground. God, send me strength, I think as I glance at the ceiling, telling myself to keep my cool. “Ava, why the fuck can’t you do what you’re told?” I ask. “Go. And. Get. Your. Breakfast.”

“No.” She comes at me, eyes on the door, and tries to open it while I keep my back pressed against the wood. “Jesse, let go of the fucking door.”

God damn her. “Watch your?—”

“Fuck off!” She goes all out demonic on the door, fighting to get it open.

“Ava,” I hiss, outraged, using one hand to try and pull her back before she does herself some damage.

“Jesse, we need to talk,” Coral yells, silencing us both, as well as halting our physical tussle. Oh, Jesus.

Ava stares at the wood briefly before moving an incensed gaze my way. “What the hell is she doing here?” she asks, catching me by surprise and yanking the door open. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Coral hardly gives Ava the time of day, ignoring my wife and focusing on me. This is not going to go down well. “I need to speak to you,” she says, throwing a death glare Ava’s way. “Alone.”

Ava’s amused snort fills me with dread. I’ve seen the aftermath of her losing her rag. Coral’s on rocky ground. “You’ve got more chance of having tea with the Queen. What do you want?”

I move in closer to Ava, getting ready to hold her back. Her cheeks are flushed, and it isn’t because I was a heartbeat away from getting my dick inside her.

“I asked you a question,” she presses, her body buzzing with anger and disbelief.

“Ava,” I say softly, nervously. “Calm yourself down, baby.”

“I’m calm,” she snaps, very uncalmly, removing my hand from her back. “I won’t ask you again.” What the hell is she doing? I’m stepping in before Ava blows a gasket. So I move around her and hold a warning arm out, daring her to pass the line I’ve just drawn.

“Coral, I’ve told you before,” I say, calmly—not feeling it—not looking her in the eye. I thought she was gone for dust. One less problem to deal with. But she’s been showing up while we were away? And Cathy didn’t mention it? How many other times has she shown up, and why hasn’t she called me? Because she knew I wouldn’t answer. Or, perhaps, because she wanted Ava to see her. This isn’t feeling good. But I haven’t got time for her deluded romantic notions. “It’s never going to happen. You need to fuck off and find someone else to stalk.” Don’t tell me I need to get Cook to sort a restraining order too?

“Have it your way,” she says, cocky. That’s confusing. Have what my way? I sincerely hate the look on her face. Enough to want to slap it off, and I’m quite certain Ava feels the same.

Coral produces a small scrap of paper. “What the fuck is that?” I ask, nervous but way angrier.

“Take a look for yourself.”

I whip it from her fingers on a snarl, at the same time keeping Ava back when I feel her pressing into the boundary line that is my arm. The moment I look at the paper, my stomach drops. Oh, fucking hell, no.

“What is it?” Ava asks as I stare, my eyes glazed and burning.

“That is a scan picture of his baby,” Coral declares proudly, and suddenly Ava’s not pushing into my arm anymore.

“Fucking hell,” I hiss, catching her as she wobbles, seeing every bit of color drain from her face. Her dark eyes are wide, her lips parted. “Shit, Ava.” I fucking knew this would happen. She mustn’t get stressed! I pick her up and take her to the couch, sitting her down, looking up over her head when Cathy appears at the kitchen doorway. I hold up a hand, signaling we’re good. “Breathe, baby,” I order softly, pushing her head down between her legs. My head’s about to spin off my neck. “Just breathe.” How the fucking hell did this happen? I’ve always been so careful. Always. I hiss, stroking Ava’s back, as I try to recall the times I ended up in bed with Coral. Mostly drunk. Can I be sure there were no accidents? A split condom, maybe one slipping off. Or maybe she took advantage of my inebriated state? It wouldn’t be the first time. But... it’s been months since I’ve been there. My eyes narrow, turning Coral’s way. Why the fuck does she look so damn pleased with herself? Because she’s about to fuck your marriage and life up. “What the fuck are you playing at, you stupid fucking woman,” I growl. “I’ve not slept with you for months.”

“Four months, and I’m four months gone.” Her smile. She’s happy. “Do the math.”

“You can’t be,” I hiss. She can’t be! “Fuck.” My head falls into my hands, and I silently will myself to wake up from this nightmare. I have not one fucking clue what to say, what to do. Proof. I want proof. I stare at the scan picture on the floor, getting hotter, sweatier. I have the fucking proof. Shit.

Ava’s hand appears in my downcast vision, picking up the picture. “Ava, what are you doing?”

“Yes, what are you doing?” Coral asks, coming forward. Like what? What is she planning to do? I hold a halting hand up, daring her to take one more step. My eyes drop to her stomach. Oh God, it’s Lauren all over again. How didn’t I see this coming? Once bitten, twice shy. But she’s got me.

Wait, no. She hasn’t got me. Does she think this changes things, that I’ll leave my wife? Or is she banking on my wife leaving me? My heart turns in my chest, forcing my fist there to press into my flesh and ease the pain. This is my penance for trapping Ava. But, again, Coral doesn’t get me. The baby, though? Will Ava accept it?

“I’m just trying to figure out,” Ava says, studying the image. “Whether you’re four or five weeks pregnant. I’m guessing just four.”

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