As I approach her room, Ava is sitting up a little in the bed, her fingers twiddling with the thin white sheets. The wound on her head has been redressed, the bandage stark white against her dark hair. Her face is full of concentration, her eyes squinting every now and then. She’s trying to remember, and it breaks my fucking heart to see it. It also renews my resolve. I’ll die before I let her memories turn to dust.
I rap softly on the open door, prompting Ava to look up quickly. She winces, bringing her hand to the back of her neck and rubbing. I’m across the room like a bullet, forgetting everything gently-gently. ‘For fuck’s sake, Ava, be careful!’ I stop abruptly a few feet from her bed when she recoils, looking at me with wide, shocked eyes.
Oh shit. Too much? Every instinct is telling me to rub her neck for her, to chastise her for not taking care of herself and chastise her more when her inevitable feistiness kicks in.
But instead, and it fucking kills me, I back up, giving her a little space. ‘You should be careful,’ I say, an air of awkwardness already drenching the small room, and I’ve not even introduced myself.
Introduced myself? Do I need to do that? I frown at my feet, wondering what the fucking hell to say. Oh hi, nice to meet you. I’m your husband. You call me the Lord. I’m a crazy, challenging, unreasonable pain in your arse; I’m possessive, I trample all over the place – your words, not mine – but by some fucking miracle, you love me nonetheless. We have sex. Lots of it, and you humour my need to have you wearing lace every day. Oh, did I mention that I owned a sex club one time? The Manor. It’s now some swanky golf complex. We fell in love fast. Well, I did. You played hard to get. So I stalked you until you relented, because I knew there was something there. We just . . . we made so much fucking sense, but then my crazy past started to get in the way, and I thought it would be a good idea to try to hide it all from you. Oh, and I forgot one of the main points. I’m a recovering alcoholic. Before I met you, I drank and I fucked many women. That was my life. We’ve had some pretty shitty times, but the good far outweighed the bad, and you stuck by me through it all. I really don’t deserve you, but you stayed with me despite all of my sins, and to top it all off, you gave me my babies. Two perfect babies. Did I mention I was married before you? No? Well, I was. I also had a little girl, but I lost her . . .
I cough away the distress creeping up into my throat, the enormity of my situation slapping me hard in the face. I’ve always been in awe of Ava’s ability to love me so fiercely. Please, God, please. I beg that she finds that ability again.
‘So apparently you’re my husband,’ she says quietly, an inappropriate tinge of humour lacing her statement.
I look up through my lashes, wondering if it’s a good thing that she seems a bit amused by the fact that she has a husband. Then I catch sight of her frowning face and conclude that it’s a bad thing. She’s looking at me in . . . oh, fuck. Is that disappointment? Maybe she’s not so surprised that she’s married, just surprised that she’s married to me.
‘You look . . . taken aback.’ I move across to the chair and sit down calmly, watching as Ava starts to spin her wedding ring on her finger.
She shrugs a little. ‘I guess you’re a little older than I imagined.’ Another frown. ‘Well, if I ever imagined I would be married.’
Ouch! I shift on my chair, injured, though showing it would be selfish, given the state of my wife. ‘You’re only as old as the woman you feel,’ I mutter pathetically instead.
‘So how old am I?’
‘Thirty-eight.’
‘I am?’ She recoils, surprised. ‘Then how old are you?’
My lips press together, not prepared to reveal that little detail. It’s like déjà fucking vu. ‘Twenty-one,’ I say coolly, trying not to scowl at her when her eyebrows jump up in surprise.
And she coughs. She fucking coughs. My scowl breaks free and my teeth grind, but I can’t pull her up on it. ‘Twenty-one?’
I nod, confirming that I really am a twat.
‘I might have lost my memory, but I haven’t lost my eyesight.’
Well, isn’t she just full of compliments. ‘It’s just a game we used to play.’
‘A game where you lied about your age?’
I laugh under my breath a little. ‘Pretty much.’ I neglect to mention the reason behind my tactics at the time, because I’m adopting the same tactic now. I don’t want to put her off, and that’s a killer of a thought at this stage in our lives.
I’ve been married to this woman for twelve fucking years, and I’m worried she might reject me. What kind of fucked-up nightmare am I in? Though, Lord knows, it’s going to take a lot more asks to reach my real age on this occasion, and I definitely won’t be sharing how she finally managed to extract the information from me all those years ago. I shudder, recalling the hellish few hours that she had me handcuffed to the bed.
I sigh and inch forward on the chair, scrubbing my hands through my hair. ‘Do you remember anything?’ I ask, my eyes pleading with her. ‘Not one tiny thing, Ava?’
Her face fills with sadness, but I’m not sure if it’s sadness for me or sadness for herself. She shakes her head, looking back down at her wedding ring. ‘I feel so misplaced.’ Her voice cracks, and one single tear splashes her forearm.
That’s it. It’s not natural for me to be sitting here. I get up and go to her, sitting on the edge of her bed and taking her hands in mine, avoiding going in for a full-on cuddle. It’s ridiculous to think that I don’t want to push my luck. With my own fucking wife. ‘You are not misplaced,’ I say calmly, seeing more tears fall. ‘Ava, look at me.’ My demand is way too harsh, given our situation.
Not that it matters. She looks up at me, and our stares instantly lock, her brown eyes gazing deeply into mine as I squeeze her hands. Her lips part a fraction, and something appears in her eyes – something familiar. Desire. It’s faint, but it’s there, a small reaction, and I cling to it with everything I have.
‘You feel that?’ I whisper, starting to fiddle with her ring myself. Her slight nod forces me to swallow down my relief before it chokes me. ‘That’s just the very beginning, Ava. That’s just the spark that set our worlds alight.’ Determination is now running rampant through my veins, that small reaction driving it. ‘This head of yours.’ I gently stroke down her cheek, relishing her slight nuzzle into my palm. ‘It’s been consumed by me for twelve years, lady. I’m not about to let you forget our story. I will make you remember. It’s my mission objective. I’ll do anything.’
She sniffles, nodding, and everything tells me that she’s accepting so easily because there’s something inside telling her that she should trust me. That she belongs with me. ‘That smell,’ she says out of the blue, tugging me towards her. I go with ease, a little taken aback when she buries her face in my neck, no matter how amazing it feels to have her so close. She inhales deeply and I wrap my arms around her as best I can, not missing the opportunity she’s instigated. ‘It’s my favourite smell.’
I smile and close my eyes. ‘I know.’