‘He was. With a girlfriend…’ he flinches as he inhales. ‘and a child.’
‘What?’ I’m sitting up fully now. ‘Go on.’ I push. This story isn’t taking the direction that I thought it would at all.
He takes another long, painful breath. I should tell him to stop and rest, but I don’t. ‘Carmichael walked in on me and Sarah. He hit the roof, got the girls and left.’
Oh good Lord. ‘The girls?’ I ask. I don’t know why. I know who the girls are.
‘Rosie and Rebecca.’
‘Your Rosie and their Rebecca.’ I whisper. ‘The car accident?’
He nods mildly and clenches his eyes shut. ‘I didn’t just kill my uncle and my daughter. I killed Sarah’s girl, too.’
‘No,’ I shake my head. ‘That can’t be your fault.’
‘I think you’ll find that my poor decisions have been the cause for everything, Ava. I’ve fucked up on so many levels so many times, and I’ve paid for it, but I can’t pay for it now that I have you. What if I make a bad decision again? What if I screw up again? What if I’m not done paying?’
His demand for compliance on everything is crystal clear. Too clear. He really does live in terror, but it’s far worse than I ever imagined. He blames himself for everything, and maybe his carelessness played a small part, but ultimately, he’s not responsible. He wasn’t driving the car that hit Jake. He wasn’t driving the car with the girls. He didn’t want to get married and he definitely wanted to be a proper father. And Sarah? That has totally floored me. She had a child with Carmichael, but was in love with her boyfriend’s nephew? Fucking hell, this is complicated stuff. Sarah really does have nothing and after losing both her daughter and her lover. She sought solace in The Manor, a little bit like Jesse did. Two tortured souls drowning themselves in whips, sex, and drink, but never in each other. That was Jesse’s choice, though. Not Sarah’s.
‘You are more than done paying.’ My eyes land on his stomach. He’s paid physically and mentally, and it’s made my husband a neurotic control freak now he has something he cares about again.
Me.
‘When did she hurt you before?’ I ask, needing that final piece to secure this colossal puzzle and lay it all to bed.
‘After Rosie died, she tried so hard to make me see that we needed each other. She had always been a little unpredictable, but when I continually rebuffed her advances, she really started behaving erratically. We’re talking full on bunny boiler style.’ He smiles at me, but I can’t smile back. She’s tried to kill him twice. This is no laughing matter.
‘Did she get pregnant on purpose?’
‘Probably.’
‘And she stabbed you?’
‘Yes.’
‘Did she go to prison?’
‘No.’
‘Why?’
He’s sighing again. ‘Her family got her help and kept her away from me in exchange for my silence.’
‘But look at the mess she made of you.’ I point to his old scar. ‘How did you pass that off?’
‘It’s pretty superficial. She did a better job this time.’ He looks down at his stomach.
‘You didn’t even go to hospital, did you?’ I’m horrified. That is one nasty scar and far from superficial. ‘Who stitched you up?’
‘Her dad. He was a doctor.’
‘Oh my God!’ I collapse onto the chair. ‘And where were your parents whilst all of this was going on?’ I sound like a lecturing fishwife, but holy shit, where does it end?
‘They’d already returned to Spain.’
‘Jesse…’ I snap my mouth shut, trying to think hard of what I can possibly say, before I blurt just anything. As always, I’m blank. This man renders me speechless on every level. ‘Your mum in Spain.’ I think hard. ‘Second chance?’ She wasn’t referring to Jake at all. She was referring to Jesse’s lost daughter—a chance for him to be a good father again.
‘You really do know everything now.’ His dry voice is still disjointed and his searching eyes are looking for mine but not falling where he knows them to be. ‘Are you leaving me?’
If my heart was breaking for him before, then now it’s just shattered. That simple, perfectly reasonable question and the unsure tone in which he’s asked it, has tears stabbing painfully at the backs of my eyes. ‘Look at me.’ I demand sharply, and he does, showing me unthinkable hurt. It cuts so deep and the tears roll freely. So do his. I know I’m his saviour now. I’m the key to redemption for him. I’m his angel. ‘Unbreakable.’ I weep, crushed by sadness for this man. Two weeks of emptiness has been flooded by happiness, but soon replaced with sorrow.
He gasps, but I’m not sure whether it’s in pain or relief. ‘Hold me.’ he begs, weakly lifting a heavy arm out to me. The no contact will be killing him, especially when he has to depend on me to feed his need.
Gingerly crawling onto the bed, I settle carefully around tubes and dressings. I’m pulled in closer. ‘Jesse, be careful.’
‘It hurts more if I’m not touching you.’
His fingertip connects with my chin and pulls my face up to his, and I reach up to catch a stray tear before running my palm all over his overgrown face. ‘I love you.’ I say quietly, pushing my lips gently to his.
‘I’m glad.’
‘Don’t stay that.’ I pull back and hit him with a disappointed glare. ‘I don’t want you to say that.’
His confusion is clear. ‘But I am.’
‘That’s not what you usually say.’ I whisper, giving his too long hair a warning yank.
My savageness tips the corner of his lips. ‘Tell me you love me.’ he demands, probably using far too much of his energy to sound stern.
‘I love you.’ I comply immediately, and he breaks into his full-on, glorious smile, reserved only for me. It’s the most incredible sight, even if there are tears accompanying it and he’s a little too washed out.
‘I know,’ He kisses me sweetly, then hisses, losing his momentum, then rides out the pain to kiss me again.
‘I’m getting the nurse now.’ I tell him determinedly. ‘You need some painkillers.’
‘I need you.’ he grumbles. ‘You’re my cure.’
Reluctantly releasing his lips, I prop myself up and clasp his face in both hands. ‘Then why are you still tensing and hissing in discomfort?’
‘Because it fucking hurts.’ he admits.
I give him one last peck and peel my body away from him before re-arranging the sheets over his waist. Whilst it’s horrible seeing him so weak and helpless, the thought of looking after him and nursing him back to health is something I’ll cherish.
‘What are you smiling about?’ he asks, lifting his arms to let me tuck the sheets in.
‘Nothing,’ I reach over and finally press the call button for the nurse.
‘You’re going to love this, aren’t you?’
I pause mid plump of his pillow and break out into a smile when I catch his disgruntled face. He’s a big, powerful man, who has been reduced to a weak, injured soul. This will be hard for him. ‘I have the power.’
‘Don’t get used to it.’ he grunts, just as the door swings open and the nurse hurries in.
‘Oh! Oh my!’ She’s by his bed and checking the machinery in a second, faffing around and feeling for his pulse. ‘Welcome back, Jesse.’ she says, but he just grunts some more and looks up to the ceiling. He’s going to hate this. ‘Feeling groggy?’
‘Shit.’ he confirms. ‘When can I go home?’
My eyes roll, and the nurse laughs. ‘Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Eyes, please.’ She gets the pen light from her pocket and waits for my grouchy Lord to drop his greens for her. When he does, she falters slightly before resuming medical duties. ‘Your wife has told me all about these eyes.’ she muses, flicking the pen from one to the other. ‘They really are quite something.’
I smile proudly and raise on my tiptoes to look over her bending body, finding him grinning from ear to ear. ‘Is that all she told you about, nurse?’ he asks cheekily.
The jolly woman cocks a warning eyebrow. ‘No, she’s told me about that roguish grin, too. Bed bath?’
He recoils on a grimace, and I laugh. ‘No, I’ll shower.’ he blurts, flashing me horrified eyes.
‘No can do, young man. Not until the doctor checks you over and we remove your catheter.’ She is putting him firmly in his place.
His horror increases, and the nurse lifts his catheter frame to demonstrate the obstacle. The mortification all over his handsome, hairy face is really quite a picture. ‘For fuck sake.’ he mutters, dropping his head back to the pillow and closing his eyes to hide from his embarrassment.
‘I’ll call the doctor.’ She chuckles as she leaves the room and I’m once again alone with my poor, dependant husband.
‘Get me out of here, baby.’ he begs.
‘No way, Ward.’ I pour him some water and stick a straw in the plastic cup, then put it to his dry lips. ‘Drink.’
‘Is it bottled?’ he asks, eyeing up the jug on the side.
‘I doubt it. Stop being a water snob and drink.’
He follows through on my demand and takes a few sips. ‘Don’t let that nurse give me a bed bath.’
‘Why not?’ I ask, placing the cup on the unit next to the bed. ‘It’s her job, Jesse and she’s been doing it very well for the past two weeks.’
‘Two weeks?’ he blurts. ‘I’ve been out for two weeks?’
‘Yes, but it felt more like two hundred years.’ I rest my backside on the edge of the bed and take his hand, twirling his wedding band thoughtfully. ‘Don’t ever complain to me about having a long day again.’
‘Okay.’ he agrees. ‘She hasn’t really been sponging me down, has she?’
I smile. ‘No, I have.’
I’m stunned when his eyes sparkle and he pouts playfully. How can he even think about that? ‘So while I was naked and unconscious, you were… fondling me?’
‘No, I was washing you.’
‘And you didn’t have a sneaky touch?’
‘Of course.’ I brace my hands on either side of his head and float my face over his smug one. ‘I needed to lift you limp dick to get to your saggy balls.’ I’m not able to prevent my grin, especially when his eyes widen before narrowing fiercely. This is a man who prides himself on his body and sexual capabilities. I shouldn’t tease him like this.
‘I’m in hell.’ he mutters. ‘Fucking hell on earth. Get me a doctor. I’m going home.’
‘You’re going nowhere.’ I kiss him chastely and leave him brooding and muttering on the bed while I nip to the loo. It’s the first time in weeks, probably my whole life, that I’ve carried out the mundane chore with a huge smile on my face. My heart is beating strongly in my chest. I might even be giving our babies a headache.
When I re-enter his room, the doctor is examining Jesse. I stand quietly to the side while listening to the questions and one word answers that are exchanged between the two men. I make mental notes and watch carefully as the Doctor re-dresses the wound and removes the drains. He’s seems happy with the healing and delighted with Jesse’s alertness. The doctor isn’t so keen to remove Jesse’s catheter, though, and not even a five minute, heated exchange of words between them convinces him.
‘Maybe tomorrow,’ he tries to appease Jesse. ‘We’ll see if you’re up for a little walk about tomorrow. You’ve just come round, Jesse.’
‘What about this, then?’ Jesse indicates the needle in his arm, but the doctor shakes his head and Jesse snorts his disgust.
After seeing through his observations, the Doctor leaves and I settle back in the chair. ‘The more you cooperate, the sooner you’ll be released.’
‘You look tired.’ he says, changing the subject and directing the concern onto me. ‘Are you eating?’
‘Yes,’ My traitor fingers dive into my messy hair, totally giving me away.
‘Ava,’ he moans. ‘Go now and get something to eat.’
‘My mum fed me a salad. I’m not hungry.’
His eyes widen at the mention of my mum. I know what’s coming. ‘What have you told them?’
‘Everything.’ I admit. I blubbered my way through it all while my mum soothed and hushed me. She was quietly tolerant. It was bizarre. ‘Except your four day absence.’
He nods thoughtfully, almost acceptingly. He must know I could never have avoided it. ‘Okay.’ he says quietly. ‘Go and get something to eat.’
‘I’m not hun…’
‘Don’t make me tell you again, lady,’ he snaps. ‘because piss bag or not, I’ll march you down to that fucking restaurant myself and shove some food down your throat!’
I wisely halt all further arguments. I’m really not hungry, but I know he absolutely would, so I drag my tired body from the chair and retrieve the twenty that my dad left for me in Jesse’s bedside cabinet. ‘I’ll get you something, too.’
‘I’m not hungry.’ He doesn’t even look at me. He’s lost in thought. He’s ashamed, but he shouldn’t be. I’m not, so neither should he.
I hide my look of astonishment at his curt reply. I’m not going to argue with him because it will get me absolutely nowhere and only stress him out. I’ll get him something and force feed him if he refuses to eat it.
His mood and my affronted state goes nowhere near to dampening down the elation dancing through me. The presence of his arrogance and challenging ways really is a sign that I have my Jesse back. I wouldn’t have him any other way.