As expected, the gang is waiting for us when we arrive, all sitting around a table in the corner, two spaces left for me and Ava.
As soon as Kate spots us, she scrambles up from her chair and takes Ava in a hug, getting as close as her baby bump will allow. ‘So good to see you.’
‘We’re still young in my head.’ Ava sighs, and Kate starts giggling.
‘How’s yoga going?’
‘Great. I met a girl, Zara – she’s so lovely – and she mentioned that the firm she works for is always looking for new interior designers. I might look into it.’
I scowl. Over my dead body.
‘That’s fab,’ Kate says, flicking me a cautious look as my wife pulls away and tugs that ridiculous dress down her thighs.
I scowl again, this time at the racy red number, wondering what I was thinking letting her wear it, and pull out Ava’s chair. ‘Sit,’ I order, earning a collection of incredulous looks from all angles of the table. ‘Please,’ I add through my ticking jaw.
Ava lowers to the seat, the tension obviously thick, not because of my beef with the dress, and not because she’s talking about a job she’s not going to be applying for. It’s the first time the guys have seen Ava since the accident. Sam, Drew and Raya all look a bit nervous, none of them obviously knowing what to say to her.
Ava must sense it, because she flicks me a nervous look and then sighs, returning her attention back to our quiet friends. ‘Nice to meet you,’ she chirps.
The guys laugh, and the tension lessens as a result of her joke. ‘Drinks?’ I flick my arm in the air, summoning a waiter.
Everyone throws their orders at me for alcohol, excluding Kate, but including my wife. I don’t think so. ‘Water, please,’ I tell the waiter as I indicate to Kate and my wife. ‘For me, too. And wine for Raya.’ I nod across to her.
‘Make it a bottle,’ Drew pipes in quietly.
Ava’s hand meets my forearm as she leans across, speaking quietly. ‘I’d like wine.’ She thinks I didn’t hear her. I heard her perfectly. Louder than everyone else who virtually shouted their order to me.
Smiling tightly at the waiter, who’s paused scribbling on his pad, looking at me, I turn to my wife. ‘You’re not having it.’ My tone is a warning, and she would do well to take notice. As I slowly swivel back towards the waiter, I catch the faces of our friends. All of them are silent. Watching. Nervous. ‘Water,’ I reiterate, taking my napkin and laying it across my lap. Silence. Eyes dodging me and Ava. Awkward vibes. I start chewing my lip, peeking out of the corner of my eye. The look of pure disgust on my wife’s face actually makes me wince. Shit, she looks livid.
‘You’d better order me some wine, Ward.’ She comes close, eyes full of fire, making me slowly lean back. I hear Sam cough through a laugh, and Drew snorts. Wankers. They should be backing me up. She just came out the other side of a horrific car incident. She’s not at full health. Drinking alcohol would be daft, and it would be highly irresponsible for me to let her. ‘Now,’ she adds on a growl that rivals mine.
‘It’s not safe,’ I argue quietly. ‘The last thing you need is alcohol fuzzing your already pickled mind.’
‘Pickled?’ She coughs over my lame choice of word. ‘My mind isn’t pickled, Jesse. Order me some wine, or so help me God . . .’
‘So help you God what?’
‘I . . . I don’t know.’ She stutters over a few more words before clearly finding the one she’s looking for. ‘Divorce,’ she spits scathingly. The whole table gasps, me the loudest, and Ava shoots our friends a surprised look. ‘What?’
Kate shakes her head mildly, warningly, and Sam blows out his cheeks. ‘Red flag. Bull on the loose. That’s all I’m saying.’ He disappears into his glass, while I fight to maintain my temper before it sends me off around the restaurant in a whirlwind. Divorce? That damn fucking word is banned from our lives.
‘Well.’ Ava shrugs, nonchalant, though I can sense her buried wariness. ‘I only want a glass of wine.’
I can feel the pressure in my head building, my body rolling where I sit.
‘Oh, here we go,’ Drew says quietly, taking his glass, as if it could protect him from the imminent explosion.
I bolt forward in my chair. ‘Take that back,’ I demand.
She flies forward, too, matching my threat, the defiant thing that she is. ‘Order me wine.’
‘No.’
She quickly has hold of my jaw, squeezing hard. ‘Do it.’
A staring deadlock that would put all others that have come before to shame holds us in our positions for what seems like for ever. I’m mad, so fucking mad, but deep inside, past that madness, is happiness. She’s always known when to let me win, and now isn’t one of those times. She’s finding her feet. Getting to know us. It takes a lot. A fucking lot, but . . . ‘Fine. You can have one glass,’ I relent, thinking she’s on to a good one and she’d better appreciate it.
‘We’ll see.’
‘We will,’ I agree, prising her fingers from my jaw, maintaining my glare.
‘Are you done?’ Kate sighs, accepting the bottle of white when the waiter approaches, making quick work of pouring for Raya, and then Ava before I change my mind. She doesn’t miss my eye on the side of Ava’s glass, watching the level. ‘Though I have to say,’ Kate goes on, nodding at Ava to seize the goods before it’s swiped away by the madman sitting next to her, ‘it’s kind of nice to see you’re still you.’ Toasting us across the table, she sips her water.
‘So when’s the wedding?’ Ava asks Raya, pulling the table back to some light chit-chat. My glare hardens when she takes her glass and peeks at me on a hidden grin as she takes her first sip. She’ll pay for that.
I put myself into the conversation, but my attention is never far from Ava’s wine glass. It’s been weeks since she had a drink, and we need to be careful of any reaction with the meds she’s on. A few sips will be like a few bottles.
‘Excuse me,’ Ava announces as she stands. ‘I need the ladies.’
I sit up straight, contemplating escorting her as she leaves us. Is that a limp? Or is it a drunken wobble? I don’t know, and I need to be sure. Either way, she could do with my help. I make to stand.
‘Jesse,’ Kate calls across the table. ‘Leave her.’
‘But—’
‘Leave. Her.’ Her order is almost a warning. Like I’d ever take any notice. Except this time I do. I don’t know why, but I do. My eyes pass from the table to Ava’s back a few times as she gets further and further away from me. I’m so torn.
‘I’d listen,’ Sam says, pointing to his girlfriend’s pregnant belly with his beer. ‘Honestly, man. I’d listen.’
‘What if she stumbles?’ I say to Kate, a clear vivid flashback of her delicate head coming into my mind. There’s blood. Lots of blood. I wince.
‘She’s had one glass of wine. Now, sit.’
‘Come on, Jesse.’ Drew joins in the persuasion party. ‘Know your limits, mate.’
I drop to the chair with a thud. ‘I know fuck all any more,’ I admit, my head finding my hands. ‘I don’t know if she’ll ever remember me, the kids, our life. I know nothing, and it’s breaking my fucking heart.’ I will myself not to cry, try so fucking hard, but that one traitorous tear drops to the table, seeming to make a bang when it lands on the cloth. My strength is waning. I’m finally crumbling for everyone to see. Kate’s next to me in a heartbeat, followed quickly by Raya on the other side. Two women rushing to comfort the big baby.
‘Don’t let your frustration beat you,’ Raya tells me, nudging my shoulder playfully. ‘There’s no way she could forget what you two have. Not for ever.’
‘Are you being over the top?’ Kate pipes in, spiking light laughter from my supposed best mates. ‘Smothering her?’
‘No,’ I assure her. ‘Jesus, I’m sleeping in the spare bed. I even let her wear that fucking ridiculous dress. And now she’s drinking wine when I really don’t think she should be. So you can’t tell me I’m being too suffocating.’ I leave out the rampage I went on yesterday when she went missing. They don’t need to know that bit. I sniff and grab my water, so wishing I could swap it for something stronger. A lot stronger.
‘She’ll get there. Keep at it,’ Sam offers on a rare smile of support.
‘Yeah.’ I swallow down my frustration and straighten myself out. What the fuck has got into me? Blubbering like a baby in front of friends. ‘Here she is.’ I brush at my eyes quickly as Kate and Raya return to their chairs.
‘Don’t worry,’ Drew says. ‘We won’t tell her you’ve been crying.’
‘Fuck you,’ I spit. ‘I do believe you bawled once when you thought a certain blonde had fucked off to Australia and left your sadistic arse.’
Drew shrivels on the spot, and Raya chuckles. ‘How cute.’
I pull out Ava’s chair, and she graciously accepts, looking at me as she lowers. ‘Okay?’
I tug her closer, and she leans in, naturally coming until my lips are pressed to her cheek. ‘I’m sorry,’ I breathe across her skin. ‘I worry, that’s all.’
She pulls back and smiles softly, reaching for my cheek and caressing it lightly. ‘I have you with me, so I’ll be fine, right?’
Never have those words sounded so comforting. Whether she’s saying them because she’s learning fast once again that I need to hear them is a moot point. ‘Right,’ I confirm. ‘We need to make friends. Kiss me.’
She doesn’t question my order. And I know it’s instinct rather than her being wise or trying to pacify me. Her kiss is just a lingering peck, only light, but still. I’m swallowed whole, caught in the moment. Until a cough interrupts my bliss. Peeking across the table, I find everyone watching us. Waiting. Smiling.
Ava starts faffing with her napkin as I return to my chair, smiling at the sudden colour of her cheeks. ‘Sorry,’ she murmurs, her eyes darting everywhere except at our friends.
No one is fazed. No one but Ava. They all know us. We might not be wholly us at this particular moment in our lives, but I can tell my friends are as pleased to see tiny hints of the normal Jesse and Ava.
We all order from the menu, the chat coming easier now. Observing Ava as Kate tells her stories from recent years is more pleasurable than I anticipated. As our meals land on the table, I watch for the next half hour as Ava pushes the food around her plate, drinking far more than she is eating.
‘More wine?’ Kate mumbles around her chilli-infused dish, the hottest on the menu, nodding at Ava’s glass. Am I the only one here concerned about the amount of alcohol falling down my wife’s throat?
Semi-scowling to myself, I lean towards Ava. ‘Take it easy, baby. You’re still fragile.’
She rolls her eyes, patting my hand. It’s so fucking condescending. ‘I’m fine,’ she assures me.
An hour later, she is not fine, and I’m fucking furious with myself for backing down. I don’t trample all over the place for the fun of it. There are always perfectly sound reasons for me insisting on something, and the reason I didn’t want her to drink is evident as Ava wobbles her way up from her chair. Kate better not try to stop me this time. Tossing a scowl to each of my friends, just so they know I’m holding each of them accountable, I take Ava’s elbow and escort her to the ladies.
‘I’m not drunk.’ She hiccups and giggles. ‘Well, not much.’
‘Be quiet,’ I grumble, letting myself into the toilet with her and pushing a stall door open. ‘In you go.’
I fill the door as opposed to closing her in, holding one of her hands while she pulls her knickers down with the other. ‘What are you smiling at?’ she asks, lowering to the loo as she beams up at me, squinting through drunken eyes.
‘I’m just surprised you haven’t ordered me out.’
She’s thoughtful for a beat. ‘I didn’t even think of it. Besides, we’ve had babies together. I assume you were there for the birth.’
My cheeks burn with the stretch of my grin, fond memories of the day my babies were born coming back to me like it could have happened yesterday. Where has that time gone? ‘It was the most beautiful day of my life.’ And stressful. I pull off some tissue and pass it to her, then help her up when she’s finished. ‘I think it’s time to go home.’
‘Oh, but I’ve had a lovely evening,’ she whines, letting me guide her to the sink. ‘Listening to all the stories.’
Yes, it’s been lovely, but not once has she shown even a hint of retrieving her memory, and I’ve been looking very closely for something. Anything. Just another glimmer. ‘It’s late.’ I flip the tap on and put her hands under. ‘And you’ve had more than enough to drink.’
‘Bossy boots.’ She giggles as I roll my eyes and take her hands to the towel. ‘Can I have one more glass before we go?’
‘No.’ I hold her waist and guide her out of the toilets, back to the table. ‘We’re going now.’ I hold Ava with one arm while retrieving my wallet with the other and grabbing some notes with my teeth.
Ava takes them from my mouth before I have a chance to spit them out. ‘He won’t let me have another drink,’ she grumbles, tossing the money on the table. ‘What a bore.’
‘One more for the road, Jesse,’ Kate pleads, batting her lashes. ‘She’s just a little tipsy.’
‘A little tipsy is too tipsy.’
‘I’m having fun,’ Ava retorts indignantly. ‘It’s not like there’s much else to be happy about right now. I’m married to man who I don’t know, I don’t recognise my children, and I’m missing sixteen years of my life.’
Everyone shrinks at the table. I ignore them, and I also ignore my wife, taking her shoulders while biting my tongue. ‘Say goodbye,’ I grate.
‘Bye!’
Turning her steadily, I proceed to guide her drunken bones out of the restaurant. I need to turn this around before I lose my rag. I’m so close. ‘You’re heading for a Retribution Fuck, lady.’ I open the door and give her a deadly serious face when she looks up at me through lowered lashes. She’s imagining it. Me fucking her stupid while she’s handcuffed to our bed. ‘What else are you imagining?’ I ask her cockily, wanting her to know that I’m fully aware of where her inebriated mind is at.
‘Nothing,’ she squeaks, moving past me through the door, her hips not swaying in their usual fashion, more jolting. That limp is getting worse. I’m hiding all of her heels when we get home. And I should mention it to her doctor.
I’m about to swoop in and remove her from her feet, when she stops abruptly, causing my front to collide with her back, knocking her forward a few steps. I catch her elbow and curse her. ‘For fuck’s sake, Ava.’
She pays no attention to my irritation, her focus remaining forward. ‘Matt?’ she says.
My neck cracks with the speed I lift my head, and my hand automatically moves from Ava’s elbow to her waist. I also step forward and close the mere inch of space between her back and my front. Anger races to the surface. It’s made worse by the fact that she recognises the wanker she was with before she met me. It’s a fucking kick in the teeth. A baseball bat to my gut. And it only fans the flames of my anger.
Time hasn’t been kind to Ava’s ex-boyfriend. Not kind at all, though I can tell by the way he’s drinking in my wife that he thinks otherwise where she’s concerned. Fucking hell, hold me back.
‘Ava?’ He moves forward, oblivious to me looming beyond. I’m head and shoulders above Ava; you can’t fucking miss me unless something more pleasurable is stealing all of your attention, and my wife, especially in that ridiculously short red thing, is definitely a more pleasurable sight than me. My face is twitching, caught between snarling, growling and glaring. ‘Wow, you look amazing.’
She shifts before me. Is she trying to break away from me? Or is she nervous? I don’t know, and I like the thought of neither, so I lock my hand tighter on her waist. She’s going nowhere. But Matt is if he doesn’t fuck off. Like into space when I launch him there with my fist.
‘Thanks, Matt.’ Ava looks back at me, though I can’t tell if her look is wary or warning. My eyes are preoccupied burning holes through her arse-wipe ex. Just hearing her say his name causes all kinds of fury within me.
‘I read in the paper that you were involved in an accident. Sounded pretty bad.’ Matt keeps his focus on Ava. ‘Though I have to say, you’re looking very well.’
‘I’m getting there. You’re looking good yourself. How have you been?’
Seriously? I’m expected to stand here like a spare part while my wife and her ex-boyfriend have a fond reunion? Not happening. Over my dead fucking body. Or maybe it’ll be over Matt’s because, I swear, I will fucking kill him.
‘We’re leaving.’ I tug Ava on, keeping my deadly stare trained on Matt as I escort her away. He finally looks at me, and I will him to have a little think about what happened the last time he came sniffing around my wife.
‘That was rude, Jesse,’ Ava argues pointlessly as I walk us to the car.
I stop her and bend, bringing myself to her eye level. ‘You don’t remember what he did to you, but I do.’
Instant bitterness travels in waves across her face, and I fear it’s not bitterness towards her ex, but towards me. ‘What did he do?’ she asks, all cocky.
‘He cheated on you. You lived with him, Ava, and you moved out when you found out he’d cheated on you. He’s an arsehole.’ I see surprise on her face, and definitely hurt. Over him?
‘So he cheated on me, you cheated on me.’ She laughs wickedly. ‘What the fucking hell is wrong with me? And since I’m supposed to love you madly, your transgressions hurt more! So the only arsehole I see right now is you, Jesse. Just you! And I fucking hate you!’ I can tell she regrets the words almost immediately by the quick press of her lips together, plus her small step back away from me.
But I don’t think she will ever appreciate how much it really does hurt. I think I’d rather take another knife to my stomach. She hates me?
‘I’m putting your cruelty down to too much alcohol. Get in the car. Now.’ I sound possessed, and I don’t give a fucking shit.
Without another word, she slides into the passenger seat and buckles up, not taking her wary eyes from me as I slam her door and stalk around the front of the car. Throwing myself in with force, I start the engine and screech off recklessly, fighting to cool my burning rage. It’s bad enough she recognised him – bad enough that the last man she remembers in her life was that scumbag. But her words?
I look down at my white knuckles gripping the steering wheel, the strength of my hold doing nothing to stop my shakes. I’m fucking livid. Her hateful claim has put me in psycho territory. It’s been years since my temper has reached these heights. Years since I flew off the handle and went on a rampage of destruction. I feel like every shitty thing is coming to a head. I’m at boiling point.
And she knows it.