Ava
I’m torn between the need to keep him close and the need to desperately break away. To find some independence before I come to lean on him too much.
Yoga is the perfect place to start, just a couple of hours away from him. The big wide world is a scary place, but it’s not going to get any less scary unless I push forward. So I’m going, and I don’t care how much he sulks about it. And I’m driving myself.
Elsie was delighted to hear from me, and offered to let me join her this afternoon. I’m looking forward to it, and as I come down the stairs, feeling bright and positive, I see Jesse pacing the hallway. I don’t let his clear displeasure break me down. ‘The keys?’ I ask, pulling my bag onto my shoulder.
The scowl fired at me is fierce, as is his stance. The man can sulk, that much I’ve figured out. But his moody nature when things don’t go his way is oddly endearing. Familiar. He grunts, looking me up and down, handing me a bunch of keys and a pretty pinky-gold thing.
I frown down at it. It’s not much bigger than a credit card. ‘What’s this?’
‘Your phone.’
‘Oh.’ I smile and slip it into my bag and pull a hair tie out, securing my hair into a ponytail carefully.
‘I’m not happy about this.’
‘No shit.’
That scowl, it darkens, and my smile widens. ‘Don’t push your luck.’
‘Don’t push yours.’ I laugh, passing him and heading for the door. My shoulder brushes his arm, and before I know what’s happened, I’m pressed against the nearest wall by his hard body. Damn, this man moves fast.
Getting up in my face, his green eyes almost dull, he growls, low and deep. His heart is clattering in his chest, the beats penetrating me. He’s worried. Worried about being away from me? It might be unhealthy and unreasonable, but to me it’s strangely comforting. Every move this man makes, everything he says, all his facial expressions and reactions, they all touch me somewhere deep, and my gut tells me it’s all okay. Everything is fine. Instinct tells me how to react. My heart tells me how to love him. My mind tells me how to handle him.
I’m slowly putting it all together, figuring him out. He is the biggest part of who I am.
‘I’ll drive carefully.’ My instinct to reassure him is so natural. I’m wondering where it’s coming from, since he’s being completely unreasonable. ‘I’ll be a couple of hours, at the most. I’ll be back before you know it, I promise.’
‘And what if you aren’t?’ He’s serious, his mind spinning with dread and the worst-case scenarios. ‘Do you know how long it took me to finally lengthen the reins I have on you? Years, Ava. Years of my fear battling with my reason.’
‘You have a reasonable side?’ I ask, trying to throw some lightness into the mix. This is utterly ridiculous. I’m going to yoga for two hours, max.
His green eyes narrow into warning slits. ‘Sarcasm doesn’t suit you, lady.’ He’s not impressed, and like the sly bastard I’ve figured he is, he rolls those damn gorgeous hips into my groin, using his power over me like the weapon it is. ‘We need to make friends.’
‘Have we fallen out?’ I laugh, trying to wriggle free, even though I know I’m going nowhere until he says so.
‘Yes, we have.’ His eyes are now gleaming, hypnotising, as he drops his mouth to my cheek and takes a light bite. He purrs, and I groan, having to stop myself from knocking my head against the wall behind me. What he can do to me, how he can make me feel, staggers me every time. ‘Stay with me.’
My eyes close, the feel of his lovely lips trailing lazily all over my face debilitating me. He makes it to my mouth and laps his tongue far and wide, pushing me further up the wall. Oh my lord, he’s a fucking god. My temperature is rising, my blood racing through my veins, my mind blitzed. And then I feel him smile around our kiss. I don’t have to see it to know it’s a smile full of satisfaction.
‘No.’ I find some willpower and yank myself from my bliss, pushing him away, ignoring the animalistic growl. I’m learning his game. I pull my bag back onto my shoulder and get my breathing on track. Jesus Christ, every part of me wants him, wants to let him completely consume me, to make love to me. But I’m so nervous about that. My eyes drop to his groin. I felt it. Only briefly, but I felt it. It’s fucking colossal, but it felt so bloody amazing, just that one stroke. I quickly realign my thoughts before I jump him. Would he like that? ‘I’m going to yoga.’
‘Then you’ll be punished later, lady.’
‘Fine.’ I head for the door on a shake of my head, yet I smile to myself. Because I think I could be falling for the nutter.
As I take the steps down to the BMW, I pull myself together, tamp down my want, and focus on the afternoon ahead. Taking the handle of the door, I look back as I pull it open, finding Jesse at the front door, his shoulder leaning against the door frame, his big arms folded across his big chest. He’s smiling. The crazy-arse loon.
Pivoting back to the car, I only just stop myself from falling into the seat. Or onto Jesse’s friend’s lap. Not that there’s much room with the huge black man taking up the driver’s seat.
‘What?’ I blurt, righting myself and taking the top of the door.
He lifts his wraparounds and beams at me, flashing a gold tooth. ‘Afternoon, girl,’ he rumbles, thumbing to the other side of the car. ‘It’s like the good old days, huh?’
My teeth clench with force that might crumble them, and I look up to find a very smug-looking man still holding position in the doorway. Unbelievable!
‘It’s you who will be getting punished!’ I yell, stomping around to the passenger side. I haven’t got time to argue; I’ll be late for my first class, and I certainly won’t be shifting the mountain of a man in the driver’s seat.
‘Look forward to it, lady!’ he calls on an irritating chuckle, earning a scowl from me that rivals any that he dishes out.
I slam the door and face John. ‘I can’t believe he’s got you driving me.’
John laughs, his huge sausage fingers gripping the wheel. ‘Girl, I drove you all over the place when you two first hooked up.’
‘It doesn’t surprise me,’ I say, staring at his profile thoughtfully. ‘I have déjà vu,’ I muse quietly, and he smiles. He has a lovely smile, warm and reassuring.
‘That doesn’t surprise me, girl.’ His left hand leaves the wheel, extending towards me, his palm face up. I lay mine in the huge shovel and he grips, firm but gentle. ‘Feeling overwhelmed?’
‘By so much.’
‘But mostly him, yes?’
‘He’s an intense man.’
‘Like I’ve said to you a million times before, girl, only with you.’ Setting my hand in my lap, he takes his own back to the wheel. ‘You and those kids are his world, but you know that already. Ain’t no man on this planet like Jesse Ward.’ He laughs under his breath a little, and I smile, sensing a fondness emanating from the big guy that feels somehow right.
‘You’re going to tell me to go easy on him, aren’t you?’
‘That motherfucker is fragile under all that bravado and muscle.’
‘He went through a lot. His brother, his uncle.’
John hums, returning his full attention to the road. ‘Looking forward to your first session with Elsie?’
Is it me, or has he just swiftly changed the subject? I frown. ‘I am. Do you remember someone called Sarah?’ I press my lips together, watching for his reaction.
‘Of course.’
‘Did you know she’s back?’
He casts his face slowly to mine. ‘I did.’ He’s giving me nothing, so I continue to press lightly.
‘Do I have anything to worry about?’
‘Girl, there’s not a woman dead or alive who would turn your husband’s head.’
‘But he turns theirs,’ I point out, knowing deep down that it’s not really my husband I need to worry about, but maybe a woman’s desperation. Jesse is stunning. Tall, confident, strong, and a whole heap of other things.
‘He doesn’t see any of them.’ His look now is almost stern, like he’s annoyed I’m letting something that’s apparently trivial bother me. ‘Only you exist in that man’s eyes, girl. Never forget that.’
I sigh, staring out of the window as we drive the streets of London. And I scold myself because though my memories are a little lost, my instinct isn’t. To Jesse Ward, I am life.
*
John drops me off with instructions to call him when I’m ready, and the first thing that hits me when I enter Elsie’s studio is the sound of background music, which I quickly determine is whale calls. The place is warm, the walls made up of dark wooden panels, only a few tiny spotlights scattered in between the dozens of floor-standing plants. A few tie-dye tapestries hang from the walls, and a small fountain in the corner trickles calming water down the side of glistening grey rocks.
‘Ava.’ Elsie’s voice matches the scene perfectly, all calm and soothing. It’s peaceful, tranquil, and I feel at ease. ‘How lovely to see you.’ Kissing me on both cheeks, she links arms with me and walks us to some bamboo doors, sliding them open. ‘This is where we’ll practise.’ She practically floats across the room, her long white cover-up trailing the floor. Taking a mat from a hook on the wall, she lays it down for me. ‘Let me take your bag and we’ll get started.’
‘Thank you.’ I give up my satchel and kneel. ‘I wasn’t sure what to wear.’ I pull at my leggings.
‘That’s just fine. As long as you’re comfortable.’
Elsie pulls her cover-up over her head, revealing a toned, curvy figure dressed in a black leotard. I’m in slight awe; the woman must be in her sixties, and she looks amazing. Sitting on her bottom and crossing her legs with ease, she motions me to follow, which I do, a little nervous.
‘Breathe in through your nose slowly, and out through your mouth. In and out. In and out. Clear your mind, and let me take you on a journey to another world.’
I wrestle to clear my mind, which is trickier than it probably should be, but it’s been so full for days, fighting to find memories, trying to surmise what certain things mean. I squeeze my eyes shut and listen to Elsie’s voice, quiet and soothing, guiding me through the process to achieve complete clear headspace.
Peace.
It settles over me like a warm blanket, and I fall into a trance, focusing on Elsie’s quiet instructions as she guides me through some simple poses, ones that apparently cleanse the body of stress. And it works.
I follow her lead, accepting the help she offers when I struggle to get a few things right, my leg aching a bit in certain poses. Not too much, but enough for me to have to ask her to stop.
An hour later, I’m on my back, my legs up against a wall, my mind clear. ‘You did so well, Ava,’ Elsie says, helping me get my legs down. ‘I’ll wait for you in reception. Take your time.’
I slowly get to my feet, stretching. I feel like I’ve had a week’s worth of sleep, my body and mind revitalised and fresh. That was so wonderful. I smile, despite not finding any memories, a new sense of hope and contentment flourishing as I collect my bag and make my way out of the studio, ready to thank Elsie from the bottom of my heart for suggesting this.
I find her sitting on a soft velvet chair, rubbing some cream into her hands. ‘Elsie, I can’t thank you enough,’ I gush, so pleased. ‘I feel like a new woman already.’
Elsie’s face scrunches into a little impish grin as she stands and approaches, taking my hands. Her skin is soft, and the smell of sweet jasmine immediately hits my nose, seeming to add another layer of peace over me. Honestly, this woman, this place, it’s like an amazing medicine.
‘I told John this would be good for you. He’s told me all about that man of yours.’ Her head tilts cheekily, and I laugh a little. ‘Passionate, but a little overbearing, yes?’
‘A little,’ I admit, not wanting to bring him down too much. I know he’s struggling, too. ‘He means well.’
‘Of course he does. He loves you with a fire in his soul. Now, will I be seeing you again?’
‘God, yes. How much do I owe you for today?’
Her hand stops mine from going into my purse. ‘I don’t charge friends,’ she says, looking past me when the door behind us opens. ‘Can I help you?’
I turn and see a woman gingerly entering. She shuts the door behind her, pulling her bag higher on her shoulder. ‘I was told you do yoga sessions here.’
‘Why yes, dear,’ Elsie glides across to her, her friendly smile almost sorry. ‘But I’m afraid I only teach one student at a time, and my schedule is rather full.’
‘Oh, I see.’ The woman looks sad now, too, and I find myself stepping forward.
‘I don’t mind sharing my session, Elsie,’ I say, smiling at the woman when her eyes sparkle hopefully. After all, I’m not paying. I feel bad for hogging a whole hour of Elsie’s time, and she refuses to take my money.
‘Are you sure, Ava?’ Elsie takes my hand and squeezes.
I look to the woman and smile. ‘I’m sure she won’t make much noise.’
Elsie laughs, as does the woman. ‘I’m sorry, my name is Zara.’ She offers her hand. ‘You really don’t have to do this.’
‘It’s fine.’ I brush it off. To be fair, she looks like she could do with the serenity of this place, too. She looks a little sad. ‘I’m Ava.’
‘Lovely to meet you, Ava.’
‘I’ll leave you two to see yourselves out.’ Elsie wanders back to the studio. ‘I need to prepare for my next session. See you Friday, then?’
‘See you, Elsie,’ I call, turning back to Zara.
‘I can’t thank you enough,’ she gushes. ‘I recently moved to the city after a shitty break-up and I’m trying to keep myself busy in my spare time, and I could really do with trying to chill out. Break-ups are stressful.’
‘You don’t have to thank me. Today was my first session with Elsie. She is just wonderful. You’ll love it.’
‘Can’t wait. So I guess I’ll see you on Friday.’
‘Do you fancy a coffee?’ It comes from nowhere, startling me. But her face is so friendly and warm, and, for the first time, I’m not frantically searching my head for the right things to say.
‘Oh, that would be lovely. Are you sure? I don’t want to keep you.’
I laugh a little. ‘Trust me, there’s nothing you’re keeping me from.’ I link arms with her and we walk out onto the street, heading for the café up the road. ‘I’m sorry about your break-up.’
‘Don’t be. I’m best rid of him.’ Zara smiles, though I sense a perpetual sadness lingering deep in her blue eyes. It’s a sadness she’s trying to hide from the world, and I can relate to that. I’m devastated that I can’t find what I’m desperately looking for, and it’s hard to keep my devastation from showing and tearing Jesse down, too. ‘The relationship was violent.’ She shrugs, like it’s nothing.
‘Oh my God, I’m so sorry.’
‘What doesn’t break you makes you stronger. That’s what they say, right?’
‘Right,’ I agree wholeheartedly. I’m not broken. But I certainly don’t feel any stronger at the moment. Call me mean, but hearing someone else’s problems makes me feel mighty better about my own.
The conversation is coming easily. It’s nice, normal. Zara isn’t looking at me with sympathy, she isn’t asking me pressing questions, searching my eyes for evidence of a memory like everyone around me does. She’s just chatting to me like a normal woman would.
‘Oh, excuse me,’ I say, pulling my phone from my pocket as we enter the coffee shop. ‘I need to call someone.’ My thumb falters over the screen, and I stare down, not sure how to even use the thing. I’ve answered Jesse’s phone, but that’s only because the thing told me to swipe. So I swipe. And get asked for a code. ‘Never mind.’ I’ll wait for John to call me. ‘I’ll get these,’ I say, shrugging my coat off. ‘What would you like?’
‘A latte would be lovely, thank you.’ Zara takes a seat while I order our drinks, pulling out my credit card and looking at the name across the front. Mrs A. Ward. I’m prompted by the server to pay, and I come over hot. What’s the PIN?
‘It’s contactless,’ he says, and I frown, catching a woman to my left tapping her card on the next machine. I follow her lead, raising my eyebrows when I see the machine tells me it’s accepted. I smile, chuffed, and take the drinks, heading for the table and settling with Zara.
Crazy as it seems, I’m feeling a little rebellious, going off the normal course of my day. ‘So where did you live before you came here?’ I ask.
‘Newcastle.’ She shakes her head on a laugh. ‘I can’t believe how expensive it is here!’
I find myself laughing, too, because I’ve been consistently shocked by inflation in my absent sixteen years. ‘Yeah, prices around these parts are no joke.’ I chink her coffee cup with mine. ‘How long have you been here?’
‘Only a couple of months. Still settling in, but I really miss my dog.’
‘Oh no, what happened?’
‘Rentals won’t allow pets, so I lost him in the separation.’
‘Oh, that’s crap. So do you have a job?’
‘I do. Only started a month ago, but it’s going great, and the potential to climb the ladder is just what I want.’
‘What do you do?’ I sit back in my seat, riveted by the conversation, despite it being simple and normal and probably boring to some. But it’s different.
‘I specialise in commercial property interiors. It sounds rather boring, I know, but I’m passionate about it and that’s what matters, right?’
‘I used to be an interior designer.’ I sound utterly unimpressed with myself. I used to be. Now? Now I don’t know what I do.
‘Oh, you did?’ Her eyes light up as she sits forward in her chair. ‘Private?’ she asks, and I nod, telling the stupid lump in my throat to fuck off. ‘And you don’t any more?’
I shrug, trying to sound nonchalant. ‘My husband owns a health club. After I had the kids and some time off, it made sense for me to work there.’ At least, that’s what I assume.
As Zara rests back in her chair, she takes a sip of her coffee, thoughtful. ‘Well, if you ever decide to dip a toe back into that world, I know my company is always looking for talented designers in all sectors.’
What is that inside me? Excitement? ‘Really?’
‘Sure!’ She matches my beam. ‘I can put you in touch with my manager, if you’d like?’
‘I’d love that. Let me give you my number.’ That excitement doubles as Zara fetches her phone and gets ready for me to reel the digits off, looking up at me in prompt. ‘It’s . . .’ I fade off, rummaging through every corner of my mind for my own phone number. ‘It’s . . .’
Zara chuckles. ‘I never remember mine, either.’ She taps at the screen of her phone and turns it towards me. I see her name in her contacts and her number. ‘Call me and we can save them.’
I look down at my phone. It’s asking me for a code again.
‘Your birthday?’ Zara prompts, and I glance up, finding her smiling softly.
I have no idea. Am I that predictable? My date of birth isn’t the number that comes to mind, though. So I tap in the first four digits that do: 3210. The screen lights up, a dozen icons glaring at me. ‘Here.’ I hand it over. ‘It’s probably easier for you to enter it rather than reel it off to me.’
Without question, Zara quickly and keenly taps her number into my phone and connects the call, letting her phone ring once before hanging up and saving my number.
‘Perfect,’ I declare as she hands it back and I slip it into my bag. She smiles. It’s such a warm smile. Friendly and accepting, and it makes me feel so at ease.
We chat about almost anything for the next hour, almost anything except my recent accident. She doesn’t need to know that, and it’s a relief to have it off my mind for a while. Just talking. Getting to know someone. Someone who I’m not already supposed to know. I’m so wrapped up in the chatter, I completely lose track of time.
‘Goodness, where did the time go?’ Zara laughs, getting up from her chair. ‘I was supposed to be at a hair appointment fifteen minutes ago to sort out this mop.’
Her hair looks just fine, long, dark, glossy waves that make her blue eyes more striking.
‘Don’t you work on Mondays?’
‘I usually work from home a few days a week, so I get a bit of freedom to sneak to yoga and the salon.’ She winks, and I laugh. ‘I’ll see you Friday?’
‘Sure.’ We walk to the door together, and as soon as I make it to the pavement, I spot Jesse’s Aston up the road through the trees lining the street. Oh no. John must have called him. I quickly find my phone and cringe. Missed call, texts and voicemails crowd the locked screen. I shrink a little. ‘My husband is waiting for me.’
‘Oh, where?’ Zara looks where I point, having to bend to get Jesse’s car in her sights. ‘That fine man pacing the pavement?’ She gives me a playful look. ‘You lucky thing, you.’
‘Oh, behave.’ I laugh, and she does, too, giving me a quick peck on the cheek. ‘Have fun at the salon,’ I call as she jogs off.
I smile, thinking that I like Zara. My smile is short-lived, though, when I turn to find Jesse stalking down the street in my direction, looking nothing short of murderous.
What’s his problem?
‘Where the fuck have you been?’ he barks, positively shaking with rage. ‘I’ve been going out of my fucking mind, lady!’ He seizes my hand harshly, and I look back to see if Zara is still around, because I know just what she would think if she saw this little episode.
What the hell is he doing? ‘Get your hands off me.’ I snap, shoving him away. ‘I went for a fucking coffee.’
His face is that of pure shock. And not because I went for coffee. ‘Mouth!’
‘Fuck you, you heathen.’ I barge past him, attempting to stomp to the car, but my leg is aching badly now. This? This ridiculously over-the-top reaction, just because I went for a coffee? The man has a screw loose.
‘God damn it, Ava!’ He’s coming after me fast, fuelled by his rage. I don’t care. He can’t stop me going for coffee, and come to think of it . . .
‘I’m going back to work.’ I must be fucking doolally. Why would I goad him like this? Why would I poke the fucking bear?
He lands in front of me as I step into the road, every inch of his tall frame vibrating. I square my shoulders and lift my chin, displaying all of the grit I feel. ‘Over my dead body,’ he whispers lowly, getting his face close to mine. I don’t back up. Never. ‘You’re not ready to go back to work.’
‘No, I’m not ready to go back to your work. Because I haven’t got a fucking clue what I’m doing! As soon as I can, I’ll be applying for a job where I do know what I’m doing.’ It’s then, after the onslaught of my shouts, I realise that I haven’t just poked the bear, I may as well have stabbed the beast.
His chest slowly inflates, his face getting redder and redder. I wisely back up now, ready for the beast to explode. But what will come first? Because there are two issues here, my language, and the fact that I’m threatening to get myself another job. He won’t let me work anywhere except with him? How stupid!
‘Watch your fucking mouth!’ he booms, practically silencing the entire street with the volume. Maybe even the whole of London. ‘And the day you get another job is the day you put me six feet under.’
‘Don’t fucking tempt me.’ I take a wide berth around him, aware of him close behind. I’ll be the one six feet under at this rate. With stress.
I yank the car door open and throw myself into the seat heavily, wincing as I do. I hurt. Everywhere. I turn my face away when he lands in the driver’s side, his force putting mine to shame. ‘I’ve had a million heart attacks in the past hour!’
‘And a seizure. And a stroke, by the look on your face. I had a coffee, for crying out loud. Aren’t I allowed that?’
‘Who with?’ He revs his Aston hard, the car sounding as angry as him. ‘Because I rang Kate looking for you, and you weren’t with her.’
‘I have other friends, too, you know.’
‘Like who?’ He roars off down the road, throwing me back in my seat. Oh, he’s mad all right. Good. So am I. Who does he think he is?
‘A friend from yoga,’ I tell him snootily, not willing to elaborate. Call me pathetic, but I kind of like the idea of having someone all to myself. ‘You’re driving like an idiot.’ I clutch the side of my seat when he zooms through an amber light, cutting someone off when he switches lanes. We get honked at, and Jesse proceeds to flip the finger, not once, but twice, hurling a barrage of abuse out the window. Jesus Christ, the man is a fucking lunatic.
‘Given my accident,’ I say, quietly alarmed by his recklessness, ‘I’m surprised you’re being so careless.’ The brakes screech, and we’re suddenly crawling along the road at a snail’s pace. ‘Now you’re just being stupid.’ I fire him a filthy look, but note very quickly that he’s not being stupid at all. He’s being serious, his brow all crinkled in silent thought. And I know those thoughts are of the day he found my mangled car before he found my mangled body. I can see the flashbacks in his rapidly dulling eyes, his anger morphing into pain. And that pain finds its way into my heart and makes me feel like the worst person in the world.
Damn it. I close my eyes briefly and sigh, reaching for his hand where it’s squeezing the wheel, his knuckles white. He lets me prise his fingers free and bring his hand to my lap, where I cup it with my other, holding it tightly.
‘I’m sorry,’ I say, a million strands of regret woven between the two small words. There’s that instinct again. The one that desperately wants to ease his pain. To make him calmer. To give him what he needs.
He pulls the car over to the side of the road and takes his hands back, scrubbing them down his face slowly and harshly. The evidence of a tear streaks his bristly cheek. Oh God. What have I done? He looks on the verge of breaking down. I unclip my belt and crawl across the centre console, onto his lap, pulling his hands away from his face. Deep green eyes overflowing with dread gaze back at me. ‘You need to chill out, Jesse.’
‘I’ll chill out if you stop trying to kill me dead.’ He’s serious, yet the crack in his voice is clear. His true fear is sobering. And, I realise, I shouldn’t toy with that.
‘Be quiet and kiss me,’ I demand, taking the reins, doing what I’m fast learning he needs me to do. And I don’t have to ask him twice. I’m taken in a kiss that’s full of appreciation as he sighs his thanks into my mouth and settles beneath me. His heart settles too, lowering to a soft thrum in his chest, reverberating against mine.
‘And to be clear,’ he mumbles, and I roll my eyes behind my lids, knowing exactly what’s coming. ‘You’re not getting another job.’ I don’t argue. Not now, though I plan on breaking him down gently over the coming weeks. Even I know I’m not ready to go back to work just yet. His head falls back against the headrest, his face serious. ‘Why didn’t you call me? Text me? Anything.’
I look away, a bit embarrassed. ‘I don’t know how to use that stupid phone.’ I can feel a lump growing in my throat. It’s so stupid.
My jaw is clenched and my face pulled to his. His face is agony. ‘I’m sorry for being unreasonable.’
I feel immediately better. ‘So you’re going to let me work elsewhere?’
‘No,’ he says simply, with no apology. ‘That’ll never happen.’ The confidence in his voice almost makes me believe him myself. We’ll see. It is what it is, and he is what he is. Neurotic.
And I am what I am.
Falling in love with him.