Page 224 of This Woman Forever

Weeks? Wait, Ava’s not seriously insinuating I slept with Coral four or five weeks ago? We were planning our wedding!

“I’m four months,” Coral says. “Not weeks.”

“No, you’re not,” Ava says, so calmly. I’m not sure I like this. “When was the last time you slept with her?” she asks, and I become all kinds of uncomfortable.

“Four, five months,” I say. Maybe it was three. I don’t know, but it definitely wasn’t four to five weeks ago. “Ava, I can’t think that far back. I didn’t exist before you.” Jesus, please tell me she doesn’t believe I betrayed her again. “I always used a condom, you know that.”

“I know,” she says, smiling a little. I don’t deserve her trust, not really. “Was she one of the...” She inhales, looking for some bravery that I wish she didn’t need. “Did you?—”

“No,” I say, resting a hand on her shoulder, squeezing some reassurance into her before rubbing at her nape. “Look at me.” I need her to see the sincerity in my eyes. I’m no saint, I know that. I don’t deserve this woman’s faith or trust, but I have not slept with Coral since I’ve been with Ava, and that is a fact. “No,” I reiterate, hating the relief I see fill her. If this baby is mine, it happened pre-Ava, and that’s my only saving grace. I just hope she can accept that. And the child. But never Coral. She’s a deceptive, immoral witch. But, again, that’s not the baby’s fault. Just like it wasn’t Rosie’s fault that her mother trapped me.

Then tried to kill me.

“You’re going to stay with him when he’s having a baby with another woman?” Coral says. “Where’s your self-respect?” My God, I wish I could do the unthinkable and slap her out of this apartment.

“I’m going to trample now,” Ava says quietly. It pulls an inappropriate smile from me.

“Knock yourself out, baby,” I say, pressing my lips to her cheek. “But please, let’s just make this one a verbal trample.” And, sadly, that’s not only because Ava’s expecting my babies. I turn and face Coral. This witch is too. Good God.

“What are you two talking about?” Coral asks.

“Get me your picture,” Ava says, looking at me.

“What picture?”

“The one that you carry everywhere,” she says. “I’m not stupid. Where is it?”

My scan picture? Why the hell does she want that? “In my suit jacket.”

“Go and get it.”

Is she mad? “No, I’m not leaving you with her.” Fuck knows what will go down in my absence.

“Her?” Coral asks, insulted. “Is that the way you’re going to speak to the mother of your child?”

“You are not the fucking mother of my child, you deluded freak!” I will only ever see her as a smear on my life. And now one that can’t be rubbed away. Ever. Fuck!

Ava walks away, so fucking calm, leaving me with Coral. “I can’t believe you’ve done this to me,” I hiss. “This is low, Coral. So fucking low.”

“I didn’t plan this, Jesse,” she says, moving closer. “It was obviously meant to be.”

“What, like we were meant to be?” I ask on a laugh. “Then why the fuck did I marry another woman, Coral?” She’s fucking loo-la, I swear it.

“We had something special.”

I practically dive from her outstretched hand. No. She’ll never touch me again.

“Special?” Someone, knock some sense into her, please. “I screwed you for a while,” I remind her for what feels like the millionth time. “I fucked you and then kicked you out. How the fuck is that special?”

“You came back for more. That has to mean something. You made me need you.”

“No, you made yourself need me.” There was no worshipping, no devotion, no love, not even any fucking smiles. She’s fabricated a relationship that never happened, and that is on her head, not mine. “I barely even spoke to you when I was screwing you,” I go on. “You were a piece of meat that was handy to have on call.” Before Ava O’Shea arrived in my life and everything except her was irrelevant. “You’re just like the rest of them, but even more desperate.” I sneer, my contempt rife. “Get a good seeing to and you think your life depends on it. What the hell makes you think that I’d leave my wife for you?” I ask, looking her up and down.

“Because I’m having your baby.”

“You’re lying.” If I keep saying it, it might come true. If she didn’t have that proof, I would laugh her out of my penthouse with a boot up her arse. But she’s come armed with evidence, and that changes everything. God damn it, how did I let this happen?

“She is lying,” Ava says quietly.

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