Total pages in book: 167
Estimated words: 157175 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 786(@200wpm)___ 629(@250wpm)___ 524(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 157175 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 786(@200wpm)___ 629(@250wpm)___ 524(@300wpm)
As soon as Kate spots us, she scrambles up from her chair and takes Ava in a hug, getting as close as her baby bump will allow. ‘So good to see you.’
‘We’re still young in my head.’ Ava sighs, and Kate starts giggling.
‘How’s yoga going?’
‘Great. I met a girl, Zara – she’s so lovely – and she mentioned that the firm she works for is always looking for new interior designers. I might look into it.’
I scowl. Over my dead body.
‘That’s fab,’ Kate says, flicking me a cautious look as my wife pulls away and tugs that ridiculous dress down her thighs.
I scowl again, this time at the racy red number, wondering what I was thinking letting her wear it, and pull out Ava’s chair. ‘Sit,’ I order, earning a collection of incredulous looks from all angles of the table. ‘Please,’ I add through my ticking jaw.
Ava lowers to the seat, the tension obviously thick, not because of my beef with the dress, and not because she’s talking about a job she’s not going to be applying for. It’s the first time the guys have seen Ava since the accident. Sam, Drew and Raya all look a bit nervous, none of them obviously knowing what to say to her.
Ava must sense it, because she flicks me a nervous look and then sighs, returning her attention back to our quiet friends. ‘Nice to meet you,’ she chirps.
The guys laugh, and the tension lessens as a result of her joke. ‘Drinks?’ I flick my arm in the air, summoning a waiter.
Everyone throws their orders at me for alcohol, excluding Kate, but including my wife. I don’t think so. ‘Water, please,’ I tell the waiter as I indicate to Kate and my wife. ‘For me, too. And wine for Raya.’ I nod across to her.
‘Make it a bottle,’ Drew pipes in quietly.
Ava’s hand meets my forearm as she leans across, speaking quietly. ‘I’d like wine.’ She thinks I didn’t hear her. I heard her perfectly. Louder than everyone else who virtually shouted their order to me.
Smiling tightly at the waiter, who’s paused scribbling on his pad, looking at me, I turn to my wife. ‘You’re not having it.’ My tone is a warning, and she would do well to take notice. As I slowly swivel back towards the waiter, I catch the faces of our friends. All of them are silent. Watching. Nervous. ‘Water,’ I reiterate, taking my napkin and laying it across my lap. Silence. Eyes dodging me and Ava. Awkward vibes. I start chewing my lip, peeking out of the corner of my eye. The look of pure disgust on my wife’s face actually makes me wince. Shit, she looks livid.
‘You’d better order me some wine, Ward.’ She comes close, eyes full of fire, making me slowly lean back. I hear Sam cough through a laugh, and Drew snorts. Wankers. They should be backing me up. She just came out the other side of a horrific car incident. She’s not at full health. Drinking alcohol would be daft, and it would be highly irresponsible for me to let her. ‘Now,’ she adds on a growl that rivals mine.
‘It’s not safe,’ I argue quietly. ‘The last thing you need is alcohol fuzzing your already pickled mind.’
‘Pickled?’ She coughs over my lame choice of word. ‘My mind isn’t pickled, Jesse. Order me some wine, or so help me God . . .’
‘So help you God what?’
‘I . . . I don’t know.’ She stutters over a few more words before clearly finding the one she’s looking for. ‘Divorce,’ she spits scathingly. The whole table gasps, me the loudest, and Ava shoots our friends a surprised look. ‘What?’
Kate shakes her head mildly, warningly, and Sam blows out his cheeks. ‘Red flag. Bull on the loose. That’s all I’m saying.’ He disappears into his glass, while I fight to maintain my temper before it sends me off around the restaurant in a whirlwind. Divorce? That damn fucking word is banned from our lives.
‘Well.’ Ava shrugs, nonchalant, though I can sense her buried wariness. ‘I only want a glass of wine.’
I can feel the pressure in my head building, my body rolling where I sit.
‘Oh, here we go,’ Drew says quietly, taking his glass, as if it could protect him from the imminent explosion.
I bolt forward in my chair. ‘Take that back,’ I demand.
She flies forward, too, matching my threat, the defiant thing that she is. ‘Order me wine.’
‘No.’
She quickly has hold of my jaw, squeezing hard. ‘Do it.’
A staring deadlock that would put all others that have come before to shame holds us in our positions for what seems like for ever. I’m mad, so fucking mad, but deep inside, past that madness, is happiness. She’s always known when to let me win, and now isn’t one of those times. She’s finding her feet. Getting to know us. It takes a lot. A fucking lot, but . . . ‘Fine. You can have one glass,’ I relent, thinking she’s on to a good one and she’d better appreciate it.