Total pages in book: 235
Estimated words: 227851 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1139(@200wpm)___ 911(@250wpm)___ 760(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 227851 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1139(@200wpm)___ 911(@250wpm)___ 760(@300wpm)
“Aren’t you getting in?” she asks.
“Let me look after you.” I can’t get in. I don’t know what I’m supposed to be doing right now, so I’m just following my instinct. Looking after her.
And, apparently, Ava isn’t okay with that. She turns in the water, feeling at my blank face, cupping my cheeks. “I need you closer than this.” They’re the golden words. “Please.”
I can see so much remorse in her brown eyes. So much worry. She can’t possibly think I’d leave her. Like she left me. I look at the sponge in my hand. At my fist wrapped around it, my wedding ring shining. How long has she been pregnant? Have I caused any damage pounding into her like a jack hammer? I sigh. Did I honestly think this would settle me, because I can feel anxiety creeping in.
Get closer to her.
The sponge hits the water with a wet slap as I rise and unbutton my shirt. Has Ava done any damage with her Friday night escapades? I drop the white material to the bathroom floor and bend, removing my shoes. I, more than anyone, know how fragile life is. This little person growing inside of my wife is depending on us to protect them. Fucking, drinking. I push my trousers off with my boxers, feeling Ava watching me go through the motions.
Shifting forward to make space for me behind her, she watches as I lower into the water and settles when I encase her with my arms, pulling her back to my chest. I don’t get the overwhelming rush of calm by having her attached to me like I normally do. My heartbeats don’t get stronger. It’s fucking odd, as if a higher power won’t allow me to absorb this news or truly grasp what is happening right now.
Ava settles for only a few seconds before she’s moving again, breaking away and putting herself on my lap. Facing me. Facing this. It’s a gesture to assure me she’s not burying her head anymore. Her hands feel for mine, our fingers threading and feeling, my mind a mash-up of absolutely nothing and absolutely everything.
“Why did you lie to me, Ava?” I ask, studying my wedding ring as she slowly spins it.
“I was scared,” she whispers, peeking up at me. “I’m still scared.”
“Of me,” I say quietly. “You’re scared of me.” I can’t blame her. I’m scared of me too.
“I’m scared of how you’ll be.” Her voice has become strong but remains soft. She doesn’t know it, but I appreciate her honesty. It’s not often Ava speaks her truths unless forced to.
“You mean even more crazy?”
She nods mildly, her chest expanding. Taking in courage? “It wasn’t even definite, and you were treating me like a priceless object.”
That’s because she is priceless. But there’s more to it. I narrow my eyes on our joined hands, wondering. “You also think I might love our child more than you,” I say, feeling her reaction through her body and nothing else.
“Would you?” Her question is laced with uncertainty, and it breaks my heart. Why wouldn’t she think that? After everything I’ve done to get us to this point, of course that thought would linger. I’m a thirty-eight-year-old man who, prior to Ava, had one priority.
Me. Only me.
Because I’d lost everyone I loved. I didn’t look after myself. Didn’t care for myself. Hated myself.
But as Ava’s husband? I’m a work in progress, granted, but I’m better with Ava. It’s fact. And my best years were as Rosie’s daddy. I have this amazing opportunity to have my own family. A unit for me to care for, provide for, love. Of course I’m going to be protective of it. Passionate. But for Ava to think I could love something more than her? Crazy. She’s the crux of the goodness in me. The reason for me to breathe, and the whole reason for me to love again. She’s my fucking hero.
Reaching for her hand, I bring it to my chest and place it in the center. “Do you feel that?” I ask, smiling gently as she watches with interest and curiosity. “It was made to love you, Ava.” Her eyes blink a few times, her throat pulsing with a swallow. Don’t cry, baby. I’m barely holding it together. But I have to say this. I need her to know my love is not conditional. That if she could never give me kids, it wouldn’t change how I feel about her. I’d be devasted, of course, but as I’ve thought before, Ava’s my beginning and my end. Whatever comes in between is simply part of the journey. This is about love. Peace. “For too long it was useless, redundant, not required.” Dead. “Now it’s gone into overdrive,” I whisper, smiling softly when her lip starts to wobble. She’s hearing me. Listening. Understanding. “It swells with happiness when I look at you.” I push her palm into my chest harder. “It splinters with pain when we fight.” She looks as overwhelmed as I feel right now. “And it beats wildly when I make love to you,” I add, now squeezing her hand. “Maybe I go overboard with my love, but that’s never going to change. I’ll love you this fiercely until the day I die, baby. Children or not.”