Mad About You: A Box Set

by Pamela Ann

  a month later

  “Mr. Chambers, there’s an Ashton Westwood to see you, sir.” Emily’s voice made me look up to the partially opened door. She gave me a look that told me she was waiting for my response.

  My seat had been barely warm from my bottom before my former nemesis decided to pay me an impromptu visit. What did he mean to accomplish with this? Was he attempting to bring me hell because I had shagged his wife senseless? Oh, bloody well. It was a mistake I didn’t intend to repeat if that was what was bothering him.

  Straightening my tie, I nodded towards Emily, indicating I was ready to receive the man who had contributed in making Reiss Chambers vanish into thin air. I was actually surprised it had taken Ava this long to find out. I had been almost sure they’d eventually fess up once Westwood secured his position as her husband and the future heir of his parents’ and Ava’s fortunes, merging both companies to solidify their financial status for generations to come.

  Cautiously sipping my coffee, I felt great in the knowledge that these “generations” weren’t going to be fruitful, because they hadn’t anticipated the idea of Ava being barren. It truly was a pity not to share that kind of ephemeral beauty that was only skin deep and meant to be appreciated from afar to your future children. Then again, maybe it was fortunate that the world wouldn’t have to endure more spoiled rotten brats. The world would be a better place without their progeny. I was convinced Ava and Ashton would bring up their children into miniature versions of them; therefore, yes, the world was truly fortunate without their brood on the horizon.

  The moment I heard the sound of the door, I zeroed in on the incomer, waiting with bated breath as to what he intended to accomplish by coming here today.

  “And to what do I owe the pleasure of having you here, Westwood?” Though it was difficult, in business settings civility was called upon even if both parties loathed each other. And, since I wasn’t sure what he meant by this jaunt, I wasn’t ready to bare my fangs just yet.

  “This isn’t a social or business call, so let’s drop the pretense, or you’ll stifle yourself,” Ashton Westwood shot out as he strode towards me with purpose, gripping a folder in one arm. “This is about Ava. I know you had your play with revenge, and as much as I hate to admit it, frankly, I’m quite relieved that her memories of you aren’t all that loving or saintly any longer.”

  Relieved? That wasn’t something I’d thought of in a million years. Ashton Westwood was relieved I had shagged his wife? Stunner. So where was he going with this?

  “Get to the point. I don’t have much time on my hands, especially not for you.”

  He stood, measuring me as we gave each other harsh stares, our expressions filled with contempt as we battled our differences through our gazes. “First things first. Before I start, I need for you to make it clear that you don’t want anything to do with Ava. Is that correct?”

  Why was he grilling me about this? Had Ava tell him everything, as well? What the bloody fuck?

  “It’s none of your business. It’s your wife’s and mine, and I hope to keep it that way.”

  “Well, from what I gathered, you practically threw her out of this very same office, telling her you didn’t want anything to do with her,” he said with a raised brow, voice still monotonous as he gave me little clue as to what he was getting at. “Again, is this assumption correct?”

  “Get to the bottom of it, will you? I don’t have the jolly time to answer to you, Westwood. And, quite frankly, I don’t give a horse’s arse what you think or don’t,” I gritted out, losing my temper. “If you’re here to ask for an apology for shagging your precious wife, then you’ll be waiting for a lifetime. I won’t give you that privilege. If you’re here to spit in my face because your wife made a whiny complaint that I didn’t treat her well, you’ll be waiting a lifetime for that, as well. So, if you have nothing else to say, I’d be grateful if you could save us both some time with this indignant, chivalrous, husbandly thing you think you’re doing at your wife’s bidding.”

  “I came here of my own free will. Ava doesn’t know I’m here, and I would like to keep it that way.” He gave me a pointed look before continuing. “And, since you’re bent on sending me away, I’ll very well head straight to the problem.”

  He immediately opened the folder before sliding a paper with a legal seal on the bottom of it. “My lawyers drew up this contract the other day. It basically states that you’re giving up the rights to the child Ava’s carrying, and under no circumstances will you try to contact Ava or the child in question, even when he or she comes of age. The child will be born and brought up a Westwood with no correlation to you, whatsoever.” He then audaciously pointed at the signature line at the bottom of the page. “I only need your signature here to have it over and done with. My lawyers will send you a copy at your request, of course.”

  My ears pounded as I stared at him, dumfounded and in complete shock to the point that I felt almost paralyzed from it.

  Child. He’d said Ava was carrying a child. And he had already concluded the baby was mine. What if Ava had slept with more men than she was ready to admit? How sure could he be that it wasn’t his in the first place? From what I had gathered, he seemed like a man who truly loved her through thick and thin; subsequently, I was almost sure he had already had her in more ways than possible. After all, it had been over a month since that fatal encounter.

  “Here’s a pen for you to sign, Chambers.” He handed me his pen while I unblinkingly frowned at it, feeling as if I was freefalling.

  “Ava’s pregnant?” I finally said out loud, still fazed and in complete disarray. “How sure are you that it’s mine?”

  “She’s one hundred percent sure that it’s your DNA she’s carrying.”

  Then, if the child was mine, I would want to be a part of it. There’s no way in hell I’d let the baby think he or she was a Westwood when it was truly half of mine and not Ashton’s.

  “She’s pregnant, and she didn’t care to tell me this significant detail herself?” I instantly got up, almost kicking the chair out of my way as I strode towards the glass, gazing down at the river Thames, truly not seeing anything due to the mere thought of my baby—my child—growing inside of Ava.

  An immediate rush of protectiveness filled me, as if it was my own right to make sure that this would pan out the way it should and not in Ashton’s favor. Never again would this man make me inferior and unworthy. He could very well do it to Ava, but I wouldn’t let him do the same to my unborn child.

  “The details are irrelevant, as you stated yourself. Why don’t you simply sign the damn form so we can move along with our lives, shall we?”

  How could he act as if this wasn’t about something important? He was adamantly telling me I should give up my rights forever because I had told the mother I didn’t want anything to do with her. Well, the rules had changed.

  “I can tell you now that I won’t ever sign it.” My parents would disown me themselves if they found out I had toyed with the idea of throwing away my own flesh and blood for some other man to take care of. “If this is truly my child, nothing will stop me from fighting for what is rightfully mine.” With that, the meeting with Ashton was immediately cut short.

  Being a father wasn’t something I had favorably put in the forefront of my mind. Of course, I had plans to marry and have children someday, but never had it occurred to me that the day would happen much sooner than expected. Moreover, my mind had never dreamed up that the child’s mother would be the woman I had vowed never to see again. Seeing her only brought the ghosts out, and I’d much rather keep them inside, locked in the closet and never peeping a sound.

  Ava was the symbol of my past and my idiocy, and whatever happened from here on out, I would never put her on a pedestal again. Fool me once, shame on me. Fool me twice, blame it on me. Fool me for the third time, I’m obviously a man without aim.

  Chapter 144

  Ava

  I had barely slept a wink sinc
e I had found out I was pregnant two days ago. In the very beginning, when I realized my period was late, I was actually afraid the doctor might tell me something along the lines of ovarian cancer or something that would indicate as to why I couldn’t conceive for so long.

  When she had beamed at me, delivering the news that I was actually in the early stages of pregnancy, I had thought it a cruel joke at first. Then, when she had kept insisting that I was, I couldn’t believe it, not until she had showed me the cutest, tiniest bean sprouting slowly inside my womb.

  I was pregnant. I’m actually pregnant! I was having a baby, and I was going to finally be a mom, just as I had dreamed for so long. My excitement had kept me awake most nights, weighing the options of telling Reiss himself, but I always came to the conclusion that it was best I kept this to myself in case he demanded I hand over the child, or worse yet, he actually stressed that maybe getting it terminated would be suitable for both parties since he loathed me to Hell and back.

  Covering my lower stomach with both my palms, I rubbed it gently, hoping it would ease the baby’s worries away as well as mine. “I’ll protect you with my life. I promise,” I whispered softly. “Nothing will come between us. It’s you and me against the world, my love.”

  Instinctively, my stomach growled, making me grin senselessly as I acknowledged it was time to eat something light. It was half past ten, and on most nights, I was on my own. Ashton visited me on a daily basis and still persisted on mending things with me. I had wanted freedom before, and after learning about the baby, I wanted it even more.

  I understood Ashton’s argument, pointing out that the baby could very well heal both of us, that it was what we had been waiting for and we could still have what we had wanted from the start. To me, though, it was already too late. Nothing could patch us, even if the very thing that had drawn us apart was my drive to becoming a mother. He had let the resentment fester inside me for two years, and I simply didn’t want to harbor any ill feelings towards him any longer. I just wanted a fresh start with no one telling me what to do.

  I had accepted that things with Reiss would never be; therefore, it was best not to hound him about this new development, even though it was a major development. I was convinced he’d someday appreciate this effort. Eventually, I’d come to my senses and tell him. As for this moment, I only wanted to bask in the warmth and enjoy this downpour of love I had for my unborn baby.

  I still had a lot of qualms about carrying it full-term because a lot could happen during this delicate stage, but I would do anything in my power to keep it safe. After all, apart from wanting Reiss to be alive again, this was all I had ever wanted.

  Drifting into the bar area, I lazily opened the fridge and took out a half pint of chocolate milk. I never could fully fathom drinking fresh milk without adding cocoa powder or strawberry syrup. I supposed, I had spent too much time as a kid wandering about the kitchen, full of curiosity, excited about the idea of anything and everything chocolate. Through the years, my mother would hire cooks that were meticulous about their pastries; thus furthering and enabling my education about its rich velvety goodness.

  I was on my fourth sip of my favorite drink, reminiscing about the past as I secretly longed to have the same experience with my child, when I heard three hard, pounding knocks on the door. Since the doorbell wasn’t used, I knew this visit was more than likely personal. Could it be Ashton?

  He’d been rather pushy, to a point where I found myself wanting to lessen my time around him. It bothered me a great deal that he wouldn’t agree to a divorce or let alone tell our parents we were thinking about it. Deep down, he harbored a great deal of hope in resurrecting our marriage; however I couldn’t see myself with him anymore. True, I still loved him and maybe a major part of me always would, yet living with him wasn’t very enriching nor was it a happy life. Coming out tonight wouldn’t change my mind, even if he begged me for the hundredth time.

  Besides, he was due back for work, and he definitely needed to get a move on. Wasting all his time and effort trying to win me back would result in nothing. I had already made up my mind, and I was sticking to it, come Hell or high water.

  Strolling towards the door as I held the bottle in my left hand, I took a dragged intake of breath as I gradually opened it just as I started saying, “Ashton, it’s late, could we please do this some other time when I have the energy to listen to—” My words became suspended mid-sentence when my gaze landed on greens and not the usual blues I was so accustomed to.

  “Ava,” he aloofly greeted me. “I believe you and I have something to discuss.”

  Bastard, I silently cursed as different thoughts ran through my head. Was he here because he wanted to see me? Or … was he here because he somehow found out about this little bean I had been trying to hide from him?

  Taking his cue, I decided to act vague, hoping this would make him go away. “I wasn’t aware that you and I have something to discuss, Reiss.” I paused, feigning innocence. “Unless, of course, you’ve changed your mind about not wanting to do anything that had me included.”

  “Don’t take me for a fool!” he spat out before he stepped into my comfort zone, letting himself inside the room without asking permission. I could smell traces of alcohol on his breath as he passed, making me all the more aware that he was under a lot of strain. Whatever this was about, he was troubled by it.

  Closing the door, my heart thudded rapidly as I watched him pace around, stopping at the dining table before he decided to pull out a chair. He sat and stared blankly at the opposing wall, appearing as if he was studying the painting.

  “Your husband came to see me today with a contract stating I’d be willing to revoke all my rights to my child.”

  Damn and blast. I knew Ashton couldn’t be trusted with such a bombshell of a secret. He was bound to do something drastic, and idiot me had thought I could trust him about something that meant so much to me. Bugger.

  “I wasn’t aware of this. He never told me about it.”

  “Of course he didn’t.” He looked lost, causing me to feel this heavy ache deep inside because I wanted nothing more than to comfort him. However, I knew it would be unappreciated; therefore, I remained where I was, openly staring at him. “I want a part of this child, Ava, make no mistake of that. So, whatever you have under your sleeve, mark my words, I’ll fight you until I have nothing left in me. This is my child as much as yours.”

  What did he intend to do? I wasn’t planning on restricting any of his parental rights. I wasn’t some vindictive bitch who would do that to my baby’s father just because he didn’t want me. I didn’t want to be like my mother. I would rather keel over and die than be like her.

  “You must understand, I did intend for you to know. I wasn’t sure when the right time was, but I promise you, I had every intention of telling you. I admit that a lot of foolish thoughts have graced my imagination, which resulted in me postponing the intended visit to inform you. You must know, after what I’ve gone through, I’m still having a tough time accepting it. It’s been surreal—a dream come true—and I just wanted more time to myself before the rest of my friends and family finds out because, once they do, my life will be chaotic, and I need to save as much energy and positivity as possible before facing any of them.”

  He gave me questioning look. “How do we do this, Ava? I don’t know much about babies, let alone raising one. The thought alone brings a lot of doubts. I fear I might not be a good father since I don’t have any bloody clue where to even begin with this. I thought I’d choose someone to marry that would fit to be the mother of my children, then we’d raise them together. Never once did I consider that things might turn out differently than planned.” He shook his head, evoking a dry laugh. “I suppose I should’ve known that, wherever you’re concerned, I could never expect what comes next.”

  His speech hadn’t meant to hurt, but it had all the same. When would I ever stop hurting because of him?

  “I know the situation
isn’t the most ideal, but we’ll cope. We can make it work as long as we’re on the same page. I guess we’ll learn … together.” I hadn’t meant for it to sound as if I wanted us to try to be a couple; as a result, I felt obliged to add, “If you’re willing to work with me, that is, then you have nothing to fear.”

  He remained silent, tormented by his own demons. Warily watching him, I gradually moved towards the sofa, feeling drained from facing him.

  It wasn’t really disappointment I felt when he had said he’d meant to marry someone he had chosen for himself to be the mother of his children, but I felt a jab from his words, either way. It made me feel unworthy of carrying his flesh and blood.

  Knowing his distrust of me, I was actually quite surprised he hadn’t asked immediately if it was truly his or demanded a DNA test. Then again, it was too early to tell. He could very well command it later on, which wouldn’t surprise me a bit. I understood fully that, whenever it came to me or anything associated with me, he had little confidence in my believability.

  “Are you okay, Reiss?” There was a snag to my voice, almost as if pleading with him to fully see me to see the woman within, crying out to reach him, anything at all. But he never did. I was lost, and he hadn’t even bothered to leave a trail of crumbs for me. He felt nothing, wanted nothing, and I should start accepting that.

  “I was just thinking … about how cruel life be …” he mused, although with little thrill in his voice. “Just when I thought life was going to get better and brighter, a whole maelstrom of fucks follows through. I guess fate put you in my life to remind me I’m nothing but a mere mortal, a defenseless human to handle whatever it throws at me. What a bloody warped trick, don’t you agree?”

  I wasn’t sure what to say; thus, I remained quiet. In fact, I was on the verge of tears, but I willed myself to get it together. I couldn’t very well breakdown right in front of the man who thought I was his bad luck. Maybe I was, though I was purely in denial of it. Was I that blinded by my own desires that I couldn’t see him for what he truly was? A broken man. A shattered man of my own making.