This Woman Forever (This Man – The Story from Jesse #3) Read Online Jodi Ellen Malpas

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, Billionaire, Contemporary, Drama, Erotic Tags Authors: Series: This Man - The Story from Jesse Series by Jodi Ellen Malpas
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Total pages in book: 235
Estimated words: 227851 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1139(@200wpm)___ 911(@250wpm)___ 760(@300wpm)
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“So what do I do now?” he asks.

He’s asking me? Jesus fucking Christ, I’m hardly an ambassador for doing the right thing. Besides, he just said they’re done. Clearly. “Give her space,” I say quietly, my grip of the steering wheel getting tighter. “Give her space and let her figure out what she needs to figure out.” And how long will Ava take to figure it out?

“So just wait while she decides if she wants me or him?” He snorts his disgust.

Is that an advantage for me? There’s no other man in the frame, no competition. But every man is competition. I don’t think Kate wants Dan. Who would, he’s a bellend. “If you have feelings, yes. Give her space. You can’t force someone to be with you.” I clench my eyes closed briefly, discreetly sniffing. Something I’ve proven. Again.

“I hear you,” he says. “I’m sorry, you don’t need my life dramas forced on you a day after your wedding. It was a great day. How’s married life?”

I brace my arms against the wheel, forcing my back into the leather. “Great. Listen, I just pulled up at the store.”

“Sure. What are your plans this week?”

Trying to convince my wife of one day not to divorce me. “This and that,” I muse.

“When are you going on your honeymoon?”

“Ava’s got some work stuff to sort out.”

“Have you spoken to Drew?”

“No, he left the wedding without saying goodbye.”

“I’ll call him. Speak later.” Sam hangs up, and I exhale, my cheeks ballooning, my sweat real. It’s only a matter of time before everyone finds out Ava’s left me. I smack the steering wheel hard, wincing on impact, seeing the aftermath of my encounter with the handcuffs glowing in the shadows.

Deserved. All the pain, deserved.

Ava, however, didn’t ask for any of this.

And I’m so fucking sorry.

I drive aimlessly, reliving my regrets, the guilt and pain increasing, until I pull into Kate’s street. I see Ava’s Mini parked outside by Kate’s van. It’s a mild relief. I knew she’d be here. I drive past slowly, looking up at the windows, seeing the lights all on. She’ll be in there telling Kate . . . everything.

I don’t pull over or even think about calling or knocking on the door.

Give her space.

How much, and for how long?

Because I feel like I’m slowly dying.

9

I went home, didn’t sleep, ran at four, put a suit on at six, left Lusso at six thirty, got to Kate’s twenty minutes later.

I park at the end of the road and wait, wondering if she’ll go to work. Can she face it? Put on a brave face? Or will she tell everyone it’s over? I check my watch repeatedly, every minute, in between watching the front of Kate’s house. I nearly lose my breath when she appears, seeing her for the first time since she walked out on me. It’s not even been twenty-four hours, but it feels like years already. I watch as she rummages in her bag as she walks down the path. Searching for her keys? How I’d love to get out, go to her, offer to take her to work. Fear of rejection is stopping me. Space. It doesn’t matter that I’m mere meters away. She thinks I’m listening to her, respecting her wishes, and I have to give her that. It’s hard when I can see how drained she looks. Stunning as always, but the underlying turmoil beneath her makeup is so clear to me. I’m surprised when she walks straight past her car. She’s heading for the Tube station.

Getting out of my Aston, I follow her, taking a small comfort from having her close enough to see, even if I can’t go to her. I keep a safe distance, holding back when I need to, boarding the next carriage on the Tube and watching her through the glass. She finds a seat and pulls her phone out, just staring at the screen. Thinking about calling me? Replying to my message?

She eventually puts it back in her bag and stands, staggering when the train jolts, starting to slow. My heart jumps into my throat as her arm shoots up and grabs the rail above her head, a man nearby reaching for her arm to steady her. It physically hurts.

Ava smiles her thanks, moving past him, and as soon as the tube stops at Green Park and the doors open, she steps off. I follow her with the sea of commuters, my eyes nailed to the back of her head. She reaches the top of the steps on Piccadilly and stops, so I pull back, waiting with bated breath for her to turn around and see me. Has she sensed I’m near?

But she doesn’t turn around. She just stands there while people dodge her motionless form. Worried, I pick up my feet, but she gets moving before I make it to her, crossing the road outside The Ritz and walking up Berkley Street to the square. The closer she gets to her office, the unrest inside me worsens. It’s going to be hours before I get to look at her again.



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