This Man Confessed (This Man 3)

‘Bye.’ I spit, turning and re-opening the fridge to grab that bottle of wine. It shouldn’t be happening, given my own current state of affairs, but I can’t help interfering on this. Kate is asking for trouble, and I’m liking my brother less and less by the day. I never thought I’d be glad to see the back of him. I ignore the exchange of goodbyes going on behind me and focus my attention on pouring a big glass of wine.

By the time I’ve sipped half, I hear footsteps going down the stairs, and I turn to face my stupid, red head friend. ‘Are you f**king mad?’ I wave my wine glass at her.

‘Probably,’ she grumbles, sitting herself down on a chair and signalling for some wine. ‘How are you feeling?’

‘Fine!’ I grab another glass and pour some, passing it over the table to her. ‘You really are getting yourself in a mess.’

She scoffs and takes a quick slurp. ‘Ava, shall we re-evaluate the situation here? You’re the one who’s been married for less than a week, has left your husband and is knocked up.’

I recoil at her harshness as she eyes up the glass I’m clenching. I’m instantly on the defence. ‘I’m a few weeks. Some women don’t find out until they’re three months.’ I’m trying to dampen down the burning guilt that’s simmering in my gut.

She gets up, climbs onto the worktop and lights a cigarette. ‘A few drinks won’t hurt you, not that it matters.’ she says, opening the kitchen window and draping her arm over the ledge.

‘Not that what matters?’ I frown, and take a more reluctant sip.

‘Well, you’re getting rid of it, aren’t you?’ She raises her pale brows at me.

The insensitive words spike at my conscience, but it doesn’t stop me slurping more wine. I think I’m more in denial now than I ever was. ‘Yes.’ I mutter, sinking onto a chair, my thoughts wandering off somewhere.

‘Right!’ Kate’s assertive tone snaps me from my reverie. ‘We’re going out.’

‘Are we?’ I blurt. That’s the last thing I want to do.

‘Yes, I’m not letting you mope around any longer. Has he called?’ She takes a drag of her fag and looks at me expectantly.

I wish I could say yes. ‘No,’

Her lips purse, and I know she’s thinking it’s strange, too. ‘Get showered. We’re going for a quiet drink, not too much, though.’ she looks at my glass. ‘Not that it matters, I suppose.

‘I don’t think so,’ I shake my head, her further blasé words eating me up inside. She sighs and flicks her cigarette butt from the window before closing it and lowering herself down. ‘Come on, Ava. We’ve not been out together for weeks. Just a sensible glass, and a chat, not about Jesse or Sam or Dan, just us two like old times, before all of these men got between us.’ By old times, she means post-Matt and pre-Jesse. We did have some laughs in those four weeks, before The Lord of the Sex Manor turned my life upside down.

‘Okay,’ I get up from the table. ‘You’re right. I’ll get ready.’

‘Fab!’

‘Thank you for not telling Dan why I’m here.’

She smiles and we leave the kitchen together to get ready for a quiet drink and a chat.

* * *

He’s constantly on my mind, and I’m trying my hardest to put him to the back, but when we walk into Baroque and the first person I see is Jay, the doorman, I give in. He frowns at me as I walk past, dropping all conversation with a fellow guard, but I proceed to the bar without a word to the obviously curious skinhead.

‘Wine?’ Kate asks, as she muscles in at the bar.

‘Please,’ I cast my eyes around our preferred watering hole and immediately spot Tom and Victoria. I don’t even feel bad for being disappointed that they’re here. I tap Kate on the shoulder and she turns her head slightly. ‘Did you know they would be here?’ I ask.

‘Who?’

I nod in the direction of my g*y friend and sassy, sometimes a bit dim, work colleague who are dancing over. They have no idea what’s happening in my life. ‘Barbie and Ken.’ I quip dryly. I can tell by Kate’s eye roll that she didn’t.

‘Love the dress!’ Tom croons, stroking my midriff.

I look down at the tight, black jersey dress that I borrowed from Kate. ‘Thanks,’ I take the glass being handed over Kate’s shoulder. ‘You okay?’ I ask Victoria.

She fluffs her hair and sweeps it over her shoulder. ‘Amazing.’

Oh? Not good or great, but amazing? ‘That good?’ I ask, wishing she could transfer some of that amazing over to me.

‘Yes, that good.’ She giggles.

‘She’s in love again.’ Tom nudges Victoria in the side, spiking a heavy scowl from the pretty blonde.

‘I’m not, and that’s rich, coming from the man-whore here!’

Tom looks genuinely shocked, and for the first time in days, I laugh. It feels good. Kate joins us, and with a lack of free tables, we just stand near the bar, chatting. He’s still floating around in my mind, of course, but my cunning best friend is doing a great job of distracting me for a while.

That is until I look up and see him.

My heart doesn’t speed up… it stops. I’ve not seen him since Monday, and if it’s even possible, he looks more devastating than ever. I know immediately that Jay has called him, and I also know I’m probably going to be dragged from the bar, but that doesn’t stop my eyes from slowly dragging up his jean clad legs, onto his white shirt, up his neck and finally onto his face—the one that sends my eyes delirious with pleasure, even when I’m mad with him. He doesn’t look mad and he doesn’t look like he’s been drinking. He looks fresh, healthy and as spectacular as ever. And every other woman in the bar thinks so, too. They have noticed this breath-taking male, who’s striding across the bar, some even following him. His sparkling greens land on me briefly and my heart resumes beating… very very fast. His face is expressionless as he stares at me for a few seconds before he slowly pulling his gaze away without so much as an acknowledgment to my presence. Then he continues to the bar with a flurry of women in tow.