This Man Confessed (This Man 3)

‘You must have seen him with many women. Why target me?’ I ask, although I already know the answer to that question.

‘You were different, that was obvious. Jesse Ward doesn’t pursue women. Jesse Ward doesn’t take women back to his home. Jesse Ward doesn’t not drink. You’ve changed that man. You’ve done what many women have tried and failed to do for many years, Ava. You’ve won The Lord.’ She stands up. ‘Congratulations, Mrs Ward. Take care of him. Make him happy. He deserves it.’

She leaves.

As I watch her back disappear out of Starbucks, I feel tearful again. I’ve won The Lord. I’ve changed him. I’ve made him stop drinking and f**king around. I’ve made him feel and love. And he does love. He loves really hard, and I love him really hard, too. I need to see him. I really need to see him. Damn Ruth Quinn and her demanding arse.

I jump up and race to the car park to collect my present, calling Kate on the way.

‘What did she say?’ she screeches down the phone before it’s even rung.

‘Apologised.’ I’m a little breathless. ‘Anyway, I’m keeping the baby.’

She laughs at me. ‘Of course you are, you stupid cow.’

I smile as I run towards the car park, keen to get my appointment with Ruth out of the way so I can get to Jesse.

* * *

‘Ava!’ Her smiley face almost irritates me.

‘Hi, Ruth.’ I practically push past her into the shell of a kitchen, doing a quick analyse. Everything looks like it’s on track. Nothing is jumping out as being a problem. ‘I can’t stay long, Ruth. I have another meeting.’ I turn to face her.

‘Oh? Coffee?’ She looks hopeful.

‘No, really. What’s the problem?’ I ask, trying to prompt her along, but she doesn’t look like she’s in a hurry as she meanders over to a makeshift table and starts faffing with a mug.

‘I’ll just make myself one, and we can go sit in the lounge where it’s less dusty.’

I screw my face up in frustration. ‘I’m sorry, I double booked, Ruth. Can we re-arrange?’ I’m feeling panicky.

‘Oh. It won’t take long.’ She carries on about her slow business, while I shift impatiently behind her. You would think she was doing this on purpose. ‘Did you have a good weekend with your parents?’

The question throws me, but I quickly engage my brain before I drop myself in it. ‘Oh, yes, thank you.’

‘Are you sure you don’t want a coffee?’ She lazily strolls over to the fridge to get the milk.

‘No, honestly.’ I can’t help the irritation in my tone.

‘It’s funny. I was sure that I saw you on Friday evening.’ she says casually. ‘In a bar. What’s it called?’ She pours the milk leisurely and stirs even slower. ‘That’s it. Baroque on Piccadilly.’

‘Oh?’ Shit! ‘Yes, I joined a few work friends. Nothing much. I left Saturday morning to visit my parents.’ My fingers are twisting wildly in my hair. Why am I even lying to her? What I do and when I do it is none of her business.

She turns with a smile, but then her eyes fall on my left hand and there is no mistaking the eye bulge. I look at my diamond adorned ring finger and suddenly feel uneasy. ‘You’ve never said you were married.’ she laughs. ‘I feel so stupid! There’s me, telling you to steer clear of all men, and all along you were married!’ She actually starts blushing, and a horrible realisation kicks in.

She’s g*y! Oh no! Oh f**king hell! That would explain it, all of the invitations to drinks, the persistent calling and meetings, and now her eyes bulging at my rings. She fancies me. Now I really do feel uncomfortable.

‘Wait there.’ She frowns. ‘I remember you saying you had a boyfriend,’ Her frown deepens. ‘And you didn’t have any rings on last week.’

I shift on my heels. ‘I only recently got married.’ I’m not going into this. ‘My rings were being re-sized.’ I can’t look at her. She’s attractive, but not like that.

‘Why didn’t you say?’ She sounds offended.

Why didn’t I say? Lots of reasons! ‘It was a low-key affair. Just family.’ Would she have expected an invite, or would she have tried to stop me? All this talk is making me want to get to Jesse even more. Should I tell her that I’m pregnant too? By, the look on her face, it would probably finish her off. She looks hurt. ‘Ruth, I really must ask what you wanted to discuss so I can remedy it and get going. I’m sorry to do this.’

She makes an obviously bad job of hiding her alarm and giving me a fake smile. ‘No, you go. It can wait.’

I’m relieved but shocked. Maybe this was the best thing that could’ve happened. Will she ease off on the persistent offers of drinks and meetings? I can’t believe I didn’t see this before. A woman who looks like this with no man? I don’t dwell on it for long, though. I’m itching to escape, and not just because I have a female admirer.

‘Thank you, Ruth. We’ll re-arrange.’ I don’t hang around. I exit hastily and wave my arm over my shoulder as I do. I’m such a fool.

I run down the path and jump into my shiny new car, nearly breaking down in tears when Angel hits my eardrums.

* * *

I frantically stab at the button on the intercom, but after a few agonising minutes, the gates still aren’t opening, so I dive into my bag and retrieve my phone to dial him. It rings once.

‘Ava?’

‘The gates won’t open!’ I sound distressed and crazy, but I’m going out of my mind with the need to see him.