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With This Man, Page 36

Jodi Ellen Malpas


  ‘I didn’t?’ She sounds surprised, and that shouldn’t be surprising. ‘Why?’

  I shrug a little, all casual. ‘You know by now that I had a past. That was one of the most painful parts, and talking about it wasn’t high on my agenda.’ I turn a smile onto her when she tightens her grip around mine. ‘When the doctor told us there were two heartbeats in that tummy of yours, I went into shock.’

  She chuckles lightly, the sound so sweet and pure, her hand lowering to her stomach and circling.

  ‘I never anticipated twins, and when I found out we were having them, I was catapulted back to a time I always kept buried.’ Now her smile is sad, as is mine. So I decide to rid us of the downhearted atmosphere, because, ultimately, it was a wonderful moment. Once I’d got past the shock. ‘The doctor told us he could hear two perfect heartbeats. Just like that. Two. It came from left field.’ I laugh a little, remembering with perfect clarity the weightlessness of my body in that moment, because there was a heartbeat to be heard, and that was a relief beyond no other after the accident, but there was also a sense of utter confusion that came with it. ‘My brain must have malfunctioned, because all I remember thinking was, my baby has two hearts? I think I actually said it, too.’

  Ava bursts out laughing. The sound and her clear amusement has me laughing, too. This is what it’s all about. The good stuff, the happy memories. I keep questioning my decision to hold back on the crappy shit, but when I see her like this, so joyful and spirited, that questioning is masked by the sight of her looking so contented.

  ‘You thought it was rather amusing at the time, too.’ I flash her a devilish smirk. ‘You savage.’

  ‘So that was when you told me about your brother?’

  I nod, pulling into the car park of the hospital. ‘It seemed like the right moment. We had a bath, you lay on me for ever, and I shared the story of me and Jacob.’ I flip her a wink. ‘Then we made each other come in the tub.’

  ‘Seems like a damn fine way to finish off an emotionally stressful day.’

  Oh, she has no idea. ‘When I’m lost in you, there’s no room in my mind for anything else. You’re the best kind of relief, Ava. Always have been, always will be.’ I zip into a parking space and turn off the engine, turning to face her. ‘As long as you always remember that, you and I will be just fine.’

  She doesn’t protest my claim, doesn’t even flash me a displeased look. Instead, she crawls across the car and puts herself on my lap. Her dark eyes are shining, true contentment reflecting back at me. Pushing her forehead to mine, she sighs into my face as my palms hold her waist. ‘I will always remember that,’ she vows, and I wince, hoping she didn’t misinterpret my statement.

  ‘I wasn’t suggesting you should give up all of your memories just if you remember that.’

  ‘I know you weren’t.’ Her hands lie over my cheeks, her gaze sinking into mine. ‘But you’re right. I may have to accept that I’ve found all the memories I’m going to find, and you have to, too, Jesse.’ Her words are soft, pacifying, and the fact she’s right strikes me painfully. That’s the reality of it. ‘I’ve got the most important things. You, and the twins. And my life.’

  I glance away, a pain so intense bolting through me, making me flinch. ‘Ava, don’t.’

  ‘But I’m right.’ She forces my face back to hers. ‘I’ve thought about nothing but. I know this is where I’m supposed to be. With you and those two gorgeous kids. The love I have inside me is fierce, and it tells me above all things that I’m home. I can sacrifice a few memories for the sake of that feeling. You need to be with me on this. Continue to tell me the things that matter, but don’t beat yourself up when it doesn’t trigger anything. You’ll kill yourself off with stress. I need you. Now more than ever.’

  Fuck, I have a wobbly lip. How can she be so together? I absorb her every word, but there are a few in her statement that resonate deeply. Continue to tell me the things that matter.

  ‘I will.’ My voice is thick with emotion, and my head is thick with a nasty mixture of shame and determination. It may seem cowardly, but I ignore the former and kiss her deeply, taking the relief I find in our intimacies. ‘We’ll be late.’ I nibble the corner of her mouth and break away, opening the car door. ‘Let’s go meet our baby.’ The happy gleam in her eyes pulls me back from the brink of some confessions. It’s my job to protect her, and that is exactly what I’m doing.

  *

  She’s turning the pages of her magazine at an epic rate, telling me they’re not being read, just skimmed. It’s something to keep her occupied while we wait to be called. Something to busy her fidgety hands. The moment we sat down, any semblance of her calmness fled. It’s got me all nervous. I place a hand on her magazine, blocking the next page turn. She looks up at me.

  ‘What’s up?’ I ask. She tosses the magazine on the table in front of us, closes her eyes, and starts to breathe in long, carefully controlled breaths. ‘Ava, baby, what’s the matter?’

  ‘Look around, Jesse,’ she practically whispers, making a quick scope of the waiting room herself. ‘All these couples.’

  We’re one of six couples here. You’d think given the condition of these women, they’d give them something a little more comfortable than these plastic chairs to sit on. With that thought, I collect Ava from the hard chair beside me and put her on my far comfier lap. ‘I don’t follow,’ I admit, ignoring the interested looks of the other men in the waiting room. They should take a leaf out of my book. Their wives’ arses must be numb. Mine’s not far from it.

  ‘They’re all so young.’

  Well, ouch. She may as well have just kicked me in the gut. I glance around, noting she’s not far off the mark. With the realisation comes another bout of doubt. Doubt. It’s a bastard thing, can worm its way into the most confident of men and eat him alive from the inside out. Well, I won’t let it. My chest swells and my chin rises. And I glare at all the twenty- and thirty-something fathers-to-be, unable to stop myself. I might be fifty, but I’m more man than any of them.

  ‘They might be younger, baby, but we have experience.’ I nod decisively.

  ‘You do, perhaps.’ Her counter is quiet, unsure, and I realise my error in a heartbeat. Fuck. Shut the fuck up, Ward. ‘I can’t remember a thing.’

  My face softens. ‘Stop that now,’ I order harshly, hating the sound of this sudden doubt in her, too. ‘When Kate went into labour, you knew just what to do. Like everything, it’s all still inside you.’ I reach for her nose and circle the end with the tip of my finger. ‘Pack it in.’

  Softening on my lap, she nods, grabbing all of my reassurance with everything she has. I give myself a swift mental slap, telling myself to never let her see my uncertainty again. It’s full steam ahead.

  ‘Ava Ward.’

  We both look across the doctor’s waiting room to see a white-coated lady with wild purple hair and a few too many piercings in her ears. Her look is harsh, though her smile is friendly. ‘Up you get.’ I put Ava on her feet, patting down my pocket when my phone rings. ‘It’s the school.’ I doubt there is a parent in the land whose heart doesn’t miss a beat or ten when they take a call from their kid’s school. Mine just missed a hundred. I connect the call, working hard to keep my voice stable and my stress level out of heart attack territory. ‘Hello?’

  ‘Mr Ward, it’s Mrs Chilton.’

  ‘Is everything okay? The kids?’

  ‘Everything is fine, Mr Ward. No need to worry.’ Those words are fucking golden, and I nod to Ava’s worried face, silently telling her not to stress.

  I’m aware of the sonographer waiting for us and hold up a finger in indication that I’ll be just a moment. ‘Then why the call?’

  ‘Maddie seems to have developed a bit of a headache.’

  I still, staring down the line, my eyes narrowing to suspicious slits. Ava cocks her head in question, so I quickly cover the mouth
piece of my phone to enlighten her. ‘Maddie has a headache.’

  ‘But she was fine this morning.’

  ‘Yes, she was. She was also rather put out that she couldn’t come to the scan.’ I raise my eyebrows, telling my lovely wife to catch up.

  ‘Oh, the little minx.’

  She’s got that right. ‘Mrs Chilton, can you put her on the line?’

  ‘Of course. One second.’ There’s a few crackles down the line, and while I wait for my fraudulent baby to prep herself to speak to her father, I give Ava a little nod. ‘You go. I’ll be there in two secs when I’ve sorted out our girl.’

  Ava shakes her head, dismayed, but with a fond smile as she disappears into the room. ‘H . . . ell . . . o,’ Maddie says, sounding like she’s swallowed acid and a pile of rusty nails.

  My girl needs to remember there’s not much that gets past me. ‘Hey, baby,’ I coo.

  ‘H-hey Daddy.’

  Daddy? Oh, she’s working it better than any Oscar winner I’ve known. I move to the side of the room, leaning a shoulder against the wall. ‘What’s up, baby girl?’ I play along with her, smiling as I do. ‘Tell Daddy.’

  ‘My tummy aches.’

  My eyebrows jump up. ‘That’s funny. Mrs Chilton said you have a headache.’

  ‘B . . . b . . . both,’ she croaks.

  ‘And having a headache and an achy tummy makes your voice poorly, too, does it?’

  Silence.

  ‘Well?’

  ‘I have a sore throat, too!’ she snaps indignantly, each word perfectly clear.

  ‘My, my, you are in a pickle.’ Pushing my shoulder off the wall, I make my way to the room where Ava’s waiting for me. ‘Listen here, madam. Ever heard of the boy who cried wolf?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Google it. Don’t think I don’t know your game, missy. I have to go. Your mother’s waiting for me.’

  ‘I want to see the new baby,’ she whines down the line, fake crying after. ‘It’s not fair.’

  ‘I’ll get pictures,’ I assure her. ‘I promise.’ Really, I’m just grateful both of them have accepted this news with no major drama. Except, of course, fake illnesses. ‘Baby girl, there’s really not much to see at the moment. It’s a peanut. You can come to the twenty-week scan, okay?’

  ‘Really?’ The delight in her voice pinches my heart. ‘You promise?’

  Smiling as I take the handle of the door, I give her what she wants. ‘Promise.’ I push my way into the room, finding Ava already on the bed with her T-shirt pulled up around her bra. ‘Now get back to class, you little scoundrel.’ I hang up after she’s sung her goodbye and join Ava, standing by the side of the bed. ‘Sorry about that.’

  ‘No problem, Mr Ward. We were just getting set up.’ The purple-haired sonographer presses a few buttons and squeezes lashings of gel on Ava’s abdomen. ‘Are we ready?’

  Good question, I think as I stare at the blank monitor, feeling Ava squeeze my hand. I smile, returning her gesture. ‘Ready,’ I say as a loud swooshing noise fills the room. Ava’s head drops to the side to see the screen, my spare hand joining the one holding hers.

  For a long, long while, the sonographer works in silence, moving the scanner around Ava’s stomach while flicking dials and pressing buttons, her attention centred on the screen. I don’t remember it taking this long before. Is there something wrong? Anxiety grows within me, silly thoughts running rampant in my mind. What if Ava misread the test? She’s doing some rather strange things lately. Could she have made a mistake? What will she do if we’re told there is, in fact, no baby in there? She’ll be distraught. This pregnancy has given her new hope. I can’t see that snatched away from her. Fear of the cruellest kind slithers through my veins as I glance from the screen, to the sonographer, to Ava, over and over.

  ‘There.’ There’s a few clicks of buttons, and the motions of the scanner pause on Ava’s lower stomach. My muscles relax a little, and Ava’s grip tightens around my hand. The sonographer points at the screen, smiling. Or is she frowning? It’s hard to tell from her profile.

  ‘What? What is it?’ My body goes rigid. Please, God, tell me everything is okay.

  ‘Is the baby okay?’ I hear Ava ask through my fog of panic.

  ‘Yes, the baby is fine.’ She looks at us, half-smiling, half-shocked. ‘And so are the other two.’

  Someone must have just poked me with high voltage, because I fly back, getting my feet all tangled in the legs of a nearby chair. I throw my hands out as the wall gets closer, only just saving myself from nutting the damn thing. ‘What?’ I barely push the word out through my crippling alarm. The other two? What does she mean, the other two? Two plus one. ‘Three?’ The one-word question is jagged and broken. ‘Thr . . . ee?’

  ‘Yes, Mr Ward. Three perfect heartbeats.’

  What the fuck? I feel dizzy. I need to sit down. But I miss the seat of the chair, landing on the floor with a thud that seems to wake me from my nightmare. I quickly scramble up, but have to grab the wall to steady myself, my legs like jelly. ‘Three?’

  ‘My baby has three hearts?’ Ava asks, and I look up at her on the bed, finding a dirty smirk on her cheerful face. My brain is clearly on the lag, because all I’m thinking is that’s the stupidest fucking question that has ever been asked. My wide eyes jump from my wife to the sonographer, their faces a picture of amusement. What? What’s so damn well funny?

  ‘I don’t und . . .’ I fade off as realisation begins to dawn on me, and my face screws up in disgust. They got me.

  They’re fucking playing with me. If I weren’t so relieved, I’d be fuming fucking mad. My jaw tight, I feel my round eyes slowly shrink until they’re angry slits. ‘That is the unfunniest joke that’s ever been played.’ I find it in myself to release the wall I’m still clinging to, all but stomping my way to the bed while Ava cackles like the demented witch that she is. ‘Fucking cruel,’ I add, crowding her vibrating body on the bed and smashing my mouth to hers. That soon shuts her up. Yes, I’m mad, but I’m so fucking relieved, too. More relieved than mad. Pulling away, I scowl down at her chirpy face. The satisfaction staring back at me diminishes my slight, so much so, I soon find myself smiling back. ‘Think you’re funny, do you, Mrs Ward?’

  She nods, the remnants of her amusement still evident in random, short, sharp chuckles as she works to calm her jerky body down. ‘I couldn’t resist,’ she titters as she looks at her accomplice. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘Yeah, thanks.’ I fire a playful, filthy look across the bed to the rogue sonographer. ‘Where do you make a complaint around here?’

  Her face drops, and Ava whacks my arm. ‘Don’t be mean. She was just doing what I told her.’

  ‘Mr Ward, I’m sorry if—’

  I hold a hand up to stop her words and her panic. ‘Don’t sweat it. My wife has a wicked sense of humour.’ I poke Ava in the soft sensitive spot on her hip, making her jolt off the bed with a girlie squeal. ‘You’ll pay for that, lady.’

  ‘I know.’ Her simple reply makes me smile as she clutches my hand. ‘But now you feel a whole lot better about only having one, don’t you?’

  I can’t deny it. I really do, and I beat myself up for a few moments for making her resort to such tactics in an attempt to make me feel better about this unexpected pregnancy. ‘I would have got used to the idea of another three,’ I say, all blasé. I’m lying through my teeth, shuddering at the mere thought. Another three? ‘There is really just one in there, isn’t there?’ I ask the purple-haired joker opposite me.

  ‘Just one, Mr Ward.’ She goes back to the screen. ‘I’m sorry, but when your wife mentioned your first scan with your twins, it did make me laugh.’ Smiling at the white blip, she starts rolling the ball on the machinery, clicking here and there. ‘Baby, singular, looks perfectly healthy. You’re six weeks into gestation, Mrs Ward.’

  ‘Can you tell the se
x yet?’ I ask, knowing full well it’s way too early.

  ‘At the twenty-week scan, maybe. Depending on baby’s position.’ The printer to the side kicks in, spitting out pictures of my baby.

  ‘You don’t want to know, do you?’ Ava asks, a bit disappointed. ‘Why?’

  ‘Because if it’s a girl, I need as much time as possible to prepare. Buy armour. For her and for me.’

  ‘Jesse!’ She whacks my arm on an exasperated gasp, and I chuckle, swooping in and crowding her.

  I grin, she scowls. ‘I never told you this morning how beautiful you look today.’

  ‘I never told you how handsome you look today.’

  I shrug. ‘A god among men.’ I kiss her delicately. ‘And now I’m taking you home and giving you the king of Retribution Fucks.’

  Her eyes widen, glancing to the side, where the sonographer is collecting the pictures from the printer, doing a terrible job of playing ignorant to our light banter. She’s smiling fondly.

  ‘Wherever, whenever, baby.’ I help wipe up her tummy and get her to her feet, collecting the pictures from Miss Purple Hair before guiding Ava to the door. ‘I hope you’re ready.’

  ‘Maybe later.’

  Huh? My steps stutter behind her. What does she mean, maybe later? I don’t need to ask. She looks over her shoulder, a definite knowing smirk forming. ‘I’m going to yoga and then having coffee with Zara.’

  ‘I don’t think so.’ It’s out before I can stop it, my declaration hostile, my ego put out.

  She rolls her eyes and continues on her way to the exit. It’s condescending as hell, and it only serves to rile me further.

  ‘You’re not going to yoga.’ I need to rein myself in before she slaps me silly. I should know by now that demanding she not do something just makes her all the more determined to do it, if only to prove a point, whatever that is. We’ve just shared a lovely moment. I’d planned on taking her home and delivering on that Retribution Fuck, and then picking the kids up from school together. She’s ruining all of my plans. And on top of that, she’s now pregnant. Even more fragile. Even more delicate. Yoga is a stupid idea. Besides, I’m not letting her out of my fucking sight. ‘No way, Ava.’