He’s weighed down with bags now, and God bless him, he looks harassed. ‘I’ll put these in the car. Wait there.’ He leaves me on the side of the pedestrianized area, coating my lips in Chapstick, while he goes over to the car to dump the bags, making his way quickly back over and grabbing me. I stifle a yelp as I’m suspended in his arms and ravished. ‘God, I’ve missed you.’ His mouth slides over my freshly moisturised lips with ease as he takes me for all to see. As always, I’m oblivious to our location and company, letting him do as he pleases with me. ‘Hmm, you taste good.’ He pulls back and pouts, his own lips shimmering slightly from the transfer of my Chapstick.
‘If you want to wear ladies lipstick, then do it properly.’ I reach up to apply, and he does nothing to stop me, even puckering to make the coating easier. ‘Better,’ I conclude on a smile. ‘You’re even more handsome with shimmery lips.’
‘Probably.’ he agrees, with complete ease, smacking his lips together. ‘Come on, I need to feed my wife and peanuts.’ He returns me to a vertical position and starts to reposition the slipping straps of my little yellow sundress. ‘These need tightening.’
Shrugging his fussing hands away, I lead on, pulling my own straps into place and disregarding the grunts of protest coming from behind me. ‘Where are you feeding me?’ I ask over my shoulder, keeping up my stride. I’m not striding for long, though. My wrist is seized, and I’m suddenly pulling against a dead weight.
‘Don’t walk away from me,’ he practically growls, spinning me around to face him. He’s scowling, while I’m grinning. ‘And you can wipe that grin off your face.’ He proceeds to tighten my straps, muttering some rubbish about an insufferable wife, who drives him fucking crazy. ‘Better. Where are all the clothes I bought you?’
‘At home.’ I answer curtly, not that any were suitable for a holiday in the sun. I wasn’t exactly given time to go holiday shopping, so I made do with my holiday wardrobe from a few years ago. I was early twenties then, and these clothes he keeps moaning about reflect it.
He takes a deep breath of patience. ‘Why do you insist on being so difficult?’
‘Because I know it drives you crazy.’
‘You just enjoy reducing me to a crazy madman.’
‘You make yourself a crazy madman.’ I laugh. ‘You need no help in that department, Jesse. I’ve told you before; you do not dictate my wardrobe.’
His eyes burn with green displeasure, but I don’t shy away from his hulking, fierceness. I’m really rather brave. ‘You drive me crazy.’ he repeats, because he doesn’t know what else he can say.
‘What are you going to do?’ I ask smugly. ‘Divorce me?’
‘Watch your fucking mouth!’
‘I didn’t even swear!’ I’m really laughing now.
‘Yes, you fucking did! The worse word, in fact. I forbid you to say it.’
Oh, now I’ve really got the chuckles. ‘You forbid me?’
His arms fold over his chest in an act of authority, like I’m a bloody child. ‘Yes, I forbid you.’
‘Divorce.’ I whisper.
‘Now you’re just being childish.’ he huffs, just like a child.
‘-ish.’ I shrug. ‘Feed me.’
He scoffs loudly and shakes his head. ‘I should fucking starve you and reward you with food when you do what you’re fucking told.’ My shoulders are clenched, I’m turned around and then guided towards a sea-front restaurant. ‘I’ll feed you here.’
We’re shown to a table for two on the outside terrace and settled by a happy Spanish man with slicked black hair and a moustache to match. ‘Drinks?’ he asks in a thick Spanish accent.
‘Water, thank you.’ Jesse sits me down and tucks me under the table before taking a seat opposite and passing me a menu. ‘The Tapas are sublime.’
‘You pick.’ I hand the menu back over the table. ‘I’m sure you’ll make a suitable choice.’ My eyebrows are raised cheekily, and the menu is taken from my hand thoughtfully, but with no scorn or reproving look.
‘Thank you.’ he says slowly.
‘You’re welcome,’ I counter, pouring us a glass of water each when the waiter places an ice cold jug on the table. It’s muggy and my thirst has hit hard at the sight of water trickling down the side of the glass pitcher. I down the whole glass in one foul swoop and immediately pour another.
‘Thirsty?’ he watches in astonishment as I make quick work of the second glass, nodding over the rim. ‘Be careful.’ he warns. I’m frowning over the rim, but unable to stop gulping the icy liquid. ‘You might drown the babies.’
I cough a little on a laugh and place my water down to grab a napkin. ‘Will you stop with that?’
‘What? I’m just showing some fatherly concern.’ He looks hurt, but I know better.
‘You don’t think I can look after our babies, do you?’
‘Yes I do.’ he retorts softly, with absolutely zero conviction. He really doesn’t. I’m shocked, and my face probably shows it, even if he’s refusing to meet my eyes so he can see for himself.
‘What the hell do you think I’m going to do?’ I regret the question the second it falls from my mouth, even more so when his head snaps up and I’m hit with a sceptical look. ‘Don’t’ I warn, my voice cracking and tears of regret immediately burning the back of my eyes. I work hard to blink them back, mentally beating myself up for my cold hearted thoughts. I feel terrible enough all on my own, without Jesse enflaming the guilt.
I’m looking anywhere and everywhere, except at Jesse because to look at his face right now will remind me of the dark place I need to forget. I don’t blame him for doubting my capabilities, I’m pretty doubtful myself, but I have him, as he keeps reminding me.
He’s sitting next to me in a heartbeat and pulling me into his side, stroking my back and burying his mouth into hair. ‘I’m sorry. Don’t get upset, please.’
‘I’m okay,’ I brush his concern away. It’s plain to see that I’m not okay, but I can’t lose control of my emotions in the middle of a restaurant for all to see. I’m already being stared at by a woman a few tables away. I’m in no mood for nosey parkers, so I flip her a look before pulling out of Jesse’s chest. ‘I said I’m fine.’ I snap shortly, picking my glass up, just for something to do other than cry.
‘Ava.’ he says quietly, but I can’t look at him. I can’t look into the eyes of the man I love when I know he’ll be showing utter contempt for me. Will he ever let me forget this? ‘Look at me,’ He sounds harsher, firmer now, but I disobey, noticing that bloody woman still staring. I meet her eyes, enhancing my fuck off look, which quickly prompts her to return to her dinner. ‘Three,’
I actually roll my eyes, but not because he’s started the countdown. No, it’s because I know I won’t be getting any Jesse style fuck or trample when he reaches zero.
‘Two,’
It’s like he’s dangling a carrot that I’m never going to get a bite of. Stupid, I know, but the need for Jesse and all of his talent for fucking me into submission has become engrained in me, pregnancy only seeming to enhance my desire for it.
‘One,’
I exhale tiredly and start fiddling with my fork, refusing to submit, probably only shortening his fuse.