This Man Confessed (44 page)

The jolly woman cocks a warning eyebrow. “No, she’s told me about that roguish grin, too. Bed bath?”

He recoils on a grimace, and I laugh. “No, I’ll shower.”

“No can do, young man. Not until the doctor checks you over and we remove your catheter.” She is putting him firmly in his place.

His horror increases, and the nurse lifts his catheter frame to demonstrate the obstacle. The mortification all over his handsome, hairy face is really quite a picture. “For fuck’s sake,” he mutters, dropping his head back to the pillow and closing his eyes to hide from his embarrassment.

“I’ll call the doctor.” She chuckles as she leaves the room and I’m once again alone with my poor, dependant husband.

“Get me out of here, baby,” he begs.

“No way, Ward.” I pour him some water and stick a straw in the plastic cup, then put it to his dry lips. “Drink.”

“Is it bottled?” he asks, eyeing up the jug on the side.

“I doubt it. Stop being a water snob and drink.”

He takes a few sips. “Don’t let that nurse give me a bed bath.”

“Why not?” I ask, placing the cup on the unit next to the bed. “It’s her job, Jesse, and she’s been doing it very well for the past two weeks.”

“Two weeks?” he blurts. “I’ve been out for two weeks?”

“Yes, but it felt more like two hundred years.” I rest my backside on the edge of the bed and take his hand, twirling his wedding band thoughtfully. “Don’t ever complain to me about having a long day again.”

“Okay,” he agrees. “She hasn’t really been sponging me down, has she?”

I smile. “No, I have.”

I’m stunned when his eyes sparkle and he pouts playfully. How can he even think about that? “So while I was naked and unconscious, you were…fondling me?”

“No, I was washing you.”

“And you didn’t have a sneaky touch?”

“Of course.” I brace my hands on either side of his head and float my face over his smug one. “I needed to lift your limp dick to get to your saggy balls.” I’m not able to prevent my grin, especially when his eyes widen before narrowing fiercely. This is a man who prides himself on his body and sexual capabilities. I shouldn’t tease him like this.

“I’m in hell,” he mutters. “Fucking hell on earth. Get me a doctor. I’m going home.”

“You’re going nowhere.” I kiss him chastely and leave him brooding and muttering on the bed while I nip to the loo. It’s the first time in weeks, probably my whole life, that I’ve carried out the mundane chore with a huge smile on my face. My heart is beating strongly in my chest. I might even be giving our babies a headache.

When I reenter his room, the doctor is examining Jesse. I stand quietly to the side while listening to the questions and one word answers that are exchanged between the two men. I make mental notes and watch carefully as the Doctor redresses the wound and removes the drains. He seems happy with the healing and delighted with Jesse’s alertness. The doctor isn’t so keen to remove Jesse’s catheter, though, and not even a five-minute heated exchange of words between them convinces him.

“Maybe tomorrow,” he tries to appease Jesse. “We’ll see if you’re up for a little walk about tomorrow. You’ve just come round, Jesse.”

“What about this, then?” Jesse indicates the needle in his arm, but the doctor shakes his head and Jesse snorts his disgust.

After seeing through his observations, the doctor leaves and I settle back in the chair. “The more you cooperate, the sooner you’ll be released.”

“You look tired,” he says, changing the subject and directing the concern onto me. “Are you eating?”

“Yes.” My traitor fingers dive into my messy hair, totally giving me away.

“Ava,” he moans. “Go now and get something to eat.”

“My mum fed me a salad. I’m not hungry.”

His eyes widen at the mention of my mum. I know what’s coming. “What have you told them?”

“Everything,” I admit. I blubbered my way through it all while my mum soothed and hushed me. She was quietly tolerant. It was bizarre. “Except your four-day absence.”

He nods thoughtfully, almost acceptingly. He must know I could never have avoided it. “Okay,” he says quietly. “Go and get something to eat.”

“I’m not hun—”

“Don’t make me tell you again, lady,” he snaps. “Piss bag or not, I’ll march you down to that fucking restaurant myself and shove some food down your throat!”

I wisely halt all further arguments. I’m really not hungry, but I know he absolutely would, so I drag my tired body from the chair and retrieve the twenty that my dad left for me in Jesse’s bedside cabinet. “I’ll get you something, too.”

“I’m not hungry.” He doesn’t even look at me. He’s lost in thought. He’s ashamed, but he shouldn’t be. I’m not, so neither should he be.

His mood, and my affronted state, goes nowhere near to dampening down the elation dancing through me. The presence of his arrogance and challenging ways really is a sign that I have my Jesse back. I wouldn’t have him any other way.

I
’m munching my way through a Dairy Milk as I round the corner that leads back to Jesse’s room, and I halt as soon as I see Sarah hovering outside Jesse’s door. She goes to take the handle, but pulls back again, then turns, deciding to leave but spots me and freezes, looking out of place and awkward. I haven’t seen her here since Jesse was admitted, and I thought she had stayed away, but seeing her now, hanging around the corridor, I realize that she’s probably been here most days. I know if I had seen her before, I might have lashed out in grief, but not now. I’ll never forgive her for what she’s done, but having learned of her history, I’d be inhuman if I didn’t feel some compassion for the woman. She lost a child. It’s tragic and she’s put up a hard-faced front to protect herself. She wanted Jesse. She saw a reason to unite and soothe each other’s grief, whereas he saw her as a reminder of what he lost because of a poor decision. Two suffering souls who used each other in different ways, except Jesse found his salvation elsewhere. And Sarah still wants him to be hers.

“Are you okay?” I ask, not knowing what else to say to her. I’ve shocked her with my question. She looks tearful, but she’s trying to keep up a hard persona. I quickly realize that she doesn’t know he’s awake. I’m sure John has been keeping her informed, but he doesn’t know either. “He’s come round.”

Her eyes snap to mine. “He’s okay?”

“He will be, if the stubborn idiot listens to the doctor.” I hold up a miniature jar of peanut butter that I found in the restaurant. “And eats.”

She smiles. It’s a nervous smile. “I hope you’ve got more than one of those.”

“Ten.” I lift my arm where a paper bag is dangling. “But it’s not Sun-Pat, so he’ll probably reject it.”

She actually laughs, but stops quickly, and I know it’s because she thinks it’s inappropriate. It probably is, not because the situation isn’t funny, but because she’s laughing
with
me.

“I know everything, Sarah.” I need her to appreciate that my empathy is only because of my new knowledge. “I’ll never forget what you tried to do to us, but I think I understand why you did it.”

Her red lips part, her mouth falling open in shock. “He told you?”

“About your little girl. About Rosie. About Carmichael, the car accident, and why the girls were with Carmichael in the first place.”

“Oh.” Her eyes fall to the floor. “It’s always been ours.”

She means their story and connection. And I’ve severed it. I
do
feel sorry for her, but nothing will ever make me stand down. Not scorned ex-lovers, high-class sex clubs, drink problems, psychotic ex-wives, the shock of a lost daughter, or the desolation of Sarah. Neither will the madness that surrounds all of those reasons. This Man has thrown everything at me, and I still don’t plan on going anywhere. Unbreakable.

“Can I see him?” she asks quietly. “I’ll understand if you refuse.”

I should refuse, but compassion prevents me. I need closure on this, and she does, too. “Sure. I’ll wait here.” I sit myself down on a hard plastic chair and watch her disappear into his room.

I don’t need to hear what will be said. I have a good idea, anyway, so instead I finish my chocolate bar, my body thanking me for the instant sugar hit.

“Ava?”

I look up and see Jesse’s mum and sister hurrying down the corridor. “Hi,” I speak around a mouthful of chocolate.

“The nurse said he’s awake. Jesse’s awake.” Beatrice looks over at the door, then back to me.

I nod and chew fast, swallowing so I can give her the information she needs. “He’s fine. Grumpy but fine.”

“Oh, thank you, Jesus!” She turns and throws her arms around Amalie. “He’s going to be okay.”

I watch as Amalie smiles over her mum’s shoulder at me. “Grumpy?”

“Or stubborn—whichever.” I shrug on a smile, and her green eyes glimmer in understanding.

“The latter, for sure,” she confirms, holding her sobbing mother in her arms. “It’s good to see you eating.”

“Where’s Henry?” I ask.

“Just parking the car. Would you mind if we see him?” Amalie asks.

I’m very abruptly hit with the hard realization that Jesse doesn’t know they’re here. And I have no idea how to handle it. After our last encounter with his parents, I should avoid subjecting him to the potentially stressful situation, but my conniving mind is jumping all over the fact that he can’t escape. And while I might be taking a huge risk, I know it will be my only opportunity to get them in the same room together. He will
have
to listen. If he doesn’t like what he hears, then so be it, but I’ve watched his family grieving. I saw it clearly, even through my own grief. Now is the time to put all wrongs right, no matter who is to blame.

This is what I hope, but it’s his choice, and I’ll stick by whatever he decides.

“I haven’t had the chance to tell him you’re here yet,” I explain, almost apologetically. “As soon as he woke, the doctors were on him and now a friend’s in there.”

“Can you do that?” Beatrice breaks away from Amalie and retrieves a tissue from under the cuff of her cardigan. “Can you tell him we’re here?”

“Of course, but—”

Amalie cuts me off. “We don’t want him upset, so don’t push it.”

“You’ll try, though.” Beatrice clasps my hands pleadingly. “Please, try hard for me, Ava.”

“I will.” I feel the pressure, but I also feel the desperation that’s seeping from every pore of this lady. I’m the key to her re-connecting with her son. She knows it, Amalie knows it, and I know it.

We all turn when the door to Jesse’s room opens and Sarah steps out. She’s been crying, and as she lifts her hand to wipe her eyes, the sleeve of her jacket rides up and I see a bandage around her wrist. But I’m distracted from this when I feel the hackles on Jesse’s mother rise.

Sarah’s tear-drenched eyes widen in shock. “Beatrice?” she splutters, shutting the door.

“What the hell are you doing here, you vindictive bitch!”

“Mother!” Amalie yells, shocked.

I’m shocked. Sarah is definitely shocked, and then the door to Jesse’s room swings open and he’s standing there, shocked. I gasp and rush over to him, noting he’s wrapped in a thin sheet at the waist and has practically dragged his drip and catheter frame with him. “Jesse, for God’s sake!”

“Mum?” He looks so confused and a little unsteady.

Jesse’s mother’s screwed-up face of hatred softens immediately at the sight of her son looking so pale and weak. “Oh Jesse, you stupid man. Get back in bed now!”

I look up and find nothing but puzzlement on his bearded, dazed face, and then I turn, seeing Beatrice clearly fighting her motherly instinct to put him back in bed herself. This is an incredibly bizarre situation, but as I watch Sarah skulk off quietly and see Amalie and Beatrice scanning Jesse’s tall frame worriedly, I quickly snap back into action. “Give me five minutes, Beatrice,” I say, pushing Jesse back into the room and shutting the door behind me. “What do you think you’re playing at? Get in bed!”

His mouth falls open to yell at me, but soon snaps shut again when he starts to sway.

“Oh shit!” I’ll never catch him. “Shit, shit, shit!” I drop my bag and frantically guide him back to the bed, but I can do nothing more than let him collapse in a heap of hard muscle. “You’re an idiot, Ward.” I’m so mad with him. “Why can’t you do what you’re bloody told?” I sort his drip and catheter out before heaving his heavy legs into place and recovering him with the sheet.

“I feel pissed,” he slurs, lifting his arm and draping it across his head.

“You got up too quickly.”

“What are they doing here, Ava?” he asks quietly. “I don’t want to see them.”

I quickly check his dressing before sitting on his bed and pulling his arm away from his hiding face. He looks at me with beseeching eyes. It kills me, but I’m going to try anyway.

“You have me, and I’m all you need, I know that, but this is a chance to put everything in your life right. Just give them a few minutes. I’m here forever, no matter what, but I can’t let you pass up an opportunity to find peace in this part of your life, Jesse.”

“I don’t want anything to ruin what I have,” he grates the words through his clenched teeth, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Listen to me.” I grab his cheek and wiggle it, prompting him to open his eyes. “After everything we have been through, do you really think there is anything else that could possibly fracture what we have?” If
that
is his only concern, then I’m even more determined to repair this. “It’ll be done on your terms. We’ll take it slow, and they will accept it.”

“I only need you.” He slips his hand under my T-shirt and finds my tummy. “Just you and our babies.”

I sigh, placing my hand over his. “You don’t have to want something to need it, Jesse. We’re having twins. I know we have each other, but we’ll need our families, too. And I’d like our children to have two sets of grandparents. We’re not normal, but we should make our children’s lives as normal as possible. It won’t change us or what we have together.”

I can see him grasping my logic. His pale face mulls over my statement until he nods lightly and gingerly pulls me down, engulfing me with his arms. I relax into him, thankful that he will at least attempt to do this. I won’t hold my breath for an instant remedy or reunion, but it’s a start.

“Tell me you love me,” he says into my hair.

“I love you.”

“Tell me you need me.”

“I need you.”

“Okay.” He releases me. “Plump my pillow, wife. I need to be comfy for this.”

I ignore his insolence and make him comfy. “I’m going to give you some privacy,” I tell him, standing and making my way to the door.

“You’re not staying?” he blurts out, his green eyes bulging in panic.

“No. I don’t need to. You’ll be fine.” It takes every effort not to sit and hold his hand through this, but he needs to do this for himself. I might have played the babies card, but my reasons are far deeper than the need to have more family around us. Jesse needs to heal physically
and
mentally. Forgiving his parents will play a massive role in that.

I open the door and smile at Beatrice and Amalie, who have since been joined by Henry. I say nothing. I leave the door open for them and lose myself for a time while I let a lost family find themselves again.