With This Man

by Jodi Ellen Malpas

  Once we’ve said our goodbyes, I walk an exhausted Ava to the car, practically holding her up. I buckle her in, kiss her neck, and linger there for a time, just feeling her on my skin. She’s dozy.

  ‘I love you.’ Her whispered confession is drowsy, but her deeper nuzzle into me tells me she’s aware of what she’s saying. My heart could burst.

  ‘I know,’ I whisper back, kissing her hair, holding my lips there for ever.

  In this moment, such a perfect moment, I decide what I must do in the morning.

  Chapter 40

  Ed Sheeran’s ‘Give Me Love’ plays quietly, a soft background noise in our bedroom, the tones calm and relaxing. Ava’s lids peel open gradually, blinking as they do, her pupils shrinking before my eyes as she becomes accustomed to the morning light. I know the second she finds me straddling her waist, because she smiles. And that smile falls the moment she tries to reach for me.

  Because she can’t move her hands.

  Her eyes dart up to the headboard, where her wrists are securely shackled. A few jerks of her arms later, she returns her eyes to me. I raise my eyebrows. Her mouth drops open.

  ‘Morning, baby,’ I chirp, resting my palms on the insides of her upper arms, pushing them into the bed.

  ‘Oh, no you did not,’ she sputters, having a little futile wriggle beneath me.

  ‘Oh, yes I did.’ I lower my face, slowly getting closer and closer to her lips. She stills. ‘Remember what your last words to me were last night?’

  Her eyes slightly widen, and I know, I just know she’s going to deny it. She shakes her head mildly, a smile tickling her lips. Oh, she knows damn well.

  ‘Have it your way.’ I sigh loudly, dropping my head until my chin meets my chest. ‘I’ll start at three,’ I warn her, my voice loaded with the craving consuming me. ‘And when I get to zero, baby—’

  ‘What? Are you going to force me to marry you again?’ The cocky edge to her tone is thrilling.

  ‘Three,’ I begin, not blessing her with an answer as I rise to sit up straight on her waist.

  ‘Jesse . . .’ she says slowly, cockiness fading and concern creeping forward.

  ‘Two.’ I hold my fingers up and lazily lower them to her stomach.

  She stills, hard as steel. ‘No.’

  I walk my fingers south, purposely slowly, prolonging her anticipation. ‘Do you remember what you said?’

  Her lips press firmly together, my stubborn little temptress.

  ‘No?’ My fingertips reach her tickle spot and stops. ‘Fine by me. One.’

  ‘Jesse.’ She exhales my name and then quickly sucks in air and holds her breath, ready for it.

  ‘Zero, baby,’ I whisper, removing my hands from her hip and falling forward onto her, catching her mouth and startling her with a smouldering, hot, consuming kiss. Though I catch the surprise in her eyes, she falls straight into it, matching the deepness, plunging her tongue far and wide. There’s not a piece of my mouth she’s not finding.

  ‘Marry me,’ I say softly into her mouth.

  I feel her smile around my lips. ‘You’ve married me twice already.’

  I pull back, a little scowl escaping. ‘Is that a no?’

  ‘I didn’t say no.’ She looks up at the cuffs, pulling a bit. ‘Release me.’

  I have no idea why I bow to her order so easily, especially since she hasn’t technically said yes, but I find myself doing exactly that, reaching up and freeing her, leaving the cuffs dangling from the bed. She sits up and pushes me to my back, now straddling me. And then she takes my arms in turn and cuffs me to the bed. And I let her.

  It’s official. I’m crazy.

  ‘What are you doing?’ I ask as I watch her spread her body the length of mine, looking up at me as she starts to lazily pepper light kisses across my torso. My head drops back, a rough moan spilling free, my eyes closing in bliss. This could be a trick. She could be leading me into a false sense of security. But right now, with her mouth gliding across my flesh, the warmth of her licks and bites leaving fire in their wake, I couldn’t give a fucking shit.

  I don’t fight the restraints. I don’t lose my mind that I can’t touch her. I don’t worry about the potential of her trying to extract information from me. I’m lost. A slave to her worshipping mouth. Every nerve ending alive, every vein pumping with hot blood.

  ‘This is the Truth Fuck, yes?’ she asks, her voice husky and low as she kisses her way up my body, onto my chin, and then my mouth. A wave of panic comes over me. There’s no expression on her face, just pure, potent lust.

  ‘Yes . . . ohhhh . . .’ I choke on my groan, her hips grinding into my groin. ‘Shit, Ava.’

  Rising a little, she frees my cock from where it’s pinned to my lower stomach, and it pings up, the tip brushing over her entrance. I jerk. She jerks. And then she lowers herself onto me, taking all of me on one slow plunge. I clench my teeth, breathing through my nose, as she starts to work her way up into a mind-blowing rhythm. I stare up into her eyes, brown eyes that are spilling desire all over me. She’s killing me over and over with each and every swivel of her hips, her palms resting on my chest. I find the will to break eye contact, my gaze falling to her breasts as they bounce lightly, and then to her stomach, where evidence of her pregnancy with the twins looks back at me.

  Beautiful. Every inch of her is beautiful.

  Falling forward, she encases my head with her arms, her face a fraction from mine. Her pace never falters. My pleasure never dips, remaining consistent, taking more of my breath with each grind.

  ‘You want some truths, Jesse Ward?’ she murmurs, weaving her fingers through my hair.

  I just nod, ignoring the ache developing in my arms and focusing on easing the ache in my cock that’s being stroked by her warm walls.

  ‘I do love you.’ She kisses me and alters the swing of her hips, turning it into more of a soft rock. That move, those words. It’s my undoing, and it’s Ava’s, too. ‘Together,’ she orders softly around our busy mouths, and with that word, I tip the edge and tumble with her, maintaining our kiss the whole time we’re riding the waves of pleasure together until our kiss slows to a stop, as well as our moving bodies. Though her constricting walls and my pulsing cock go on for far longer. I feel the release of her muscles when she sighs, her body melting over mine. ‘Marry me,’ she breathes, turning her lips onto my cheek.

  If there was ever a moment in my life that I could bottle and store away for ever, this would be it. Because she’s just told me she’s all in.

  ‘You can’t ask me that when I’m handcuffed to the bed,’ I whisper, feeling her immediately move and release me. The second my hands are my own again, I flip her to her back and crowd her.

  ‘Marry me?’ she repeats.

  ‘Stupid fucking question.’

  And I kiss her.

  Chapter 41

  It feels like D-day. The kids will be home later, we meet Sam and Kate’s baby girl for the first time, and Ava has her follow-up appointment with her doctor. Two of the things on our list I’m elated about. The last not so much.

  I’m dreading hearing Dr Peters tell us that he’s happy with her progress, because I definitely wouldn’t say I’m happy. With the progress we’ve had in terms of our relationship, yes, I’m delighted. But in terms of her memory, I’m disappointed. I might sound ungrateful. I probably am. Like my mother said to me earlier this morning, I should be thankful that I still have her at all. The thought alone makes my blood run cold each time it enters my head.

  As we wander down the corridor towards the maternity unit to see Kate before heading to Dr Peters’s office, I can feel Ava’s nerves spiking. I wonder if she can feel mine? I sway between asking her if she’s all right or not saying anything at all.

  ‘I’m fine,’ she says, peeking up at me. ‘At least some things are coming back to me. Wouldn’t you be more
concerned if I had nothing? An empty head?’

  ‘I just wish you would remem—’ I stop myself in the nick of time, mentally thumping myself. Why would I even dream of saying that?

  I’m walking one second, and standing still the next, Ava having pulled me to a stop. Turning into me, she finishes for me. ‘The kids?’

  Damn, she’s good. But after Kate’s labour Saturday night, it’s not surprising her mind is on her own children. Ava had relayed every pain her friend should expect. Like a pro. And I think the notion comforted her. Made her feel even more maternal.

  Stepping into me, she lifts on her tippy-toes and kisses my stubbled cheek, and I push my face into it, throwing my arms around her and squeezing her to me. ‘I can’t wait to see the kids,’ she mumbles into my shoulder, probably struggling for breath. ‘We need to get on with things, and we can’t do that while we’re incomplete.’

  She’s putting me to shame, but one thing I know is that the time away from the twins, the most painful time in my life for more than that reason, wasn’t entirely wasted. I made my wife fall in love with me again. Mission accomplished.

  ‘I love you.’ I refuse to let her go, people having to sidestep us in the middle of the corridor to get past. I don’t care. Wherever, whenever. Always.

  ‘I know,’ she answers, fussing over me with kisses like I need to be fussed. ‘Come on. We have a baby to meet.’ At that moment, the doors to the maternity unit open, and Sam appears with a bundle of blankets in his arms. And beneath the piles of soft cotton, his baby girl.

  Christ, my eyes begin to well, my throat clogging up on me. I cough to clear it, and Ava gives me a knowing look. I scowl out of principle before my wife thinks I’ve transformed into a complete sappy twat.

  Sam grins, so wide. ‘Guys, meet Betty.’

  ‘Oh my God.’ Ava melts at his feet, going totally goo-goo over the baby. I’m alarmed, stepping forward to take a peek. Yeah, she’s cute all right. My wife swoons all over Sam’s arms, cooing and oohing, clucking and smiling.

  ‘Don’t get any ideas.’ It’s out before I can stop it, and she looks up at me, her fingers playing with Betty’s little hand. Sam’s quick to fall apart, and Ava’s quick to put me straight. ‘I’m happy with the two, thanks.’

  I know I visibly sag before her, and I can’t help it. Imagining going through pregnancy hell again makes me sweat. The worry. The anxiety. The constant fear that something small, a twinge or something else, meant something was seriously wrong. And then the labour. ‘Good,’ I confirm, rolling my shoulders, making Sam laugh harder.

  ‘You’re too old, man.’ Sam sticks the knife right in and twists it repeatedly.

  ‘Fuck you,’ I spit, moving on, keen to divert that conversation. ‘How are you, anyway?’ He looks knackered.

  ‘I thought I’d seen every intimate part of my girlfriend.’ He shudders. ‘I was so wrong.’

  I laugh, looking towards the door when Kate comes wobbling through.

  She looks surprisingly fresh, considering. ‘I snuck out because it’s not visiting time and they won’t let you in.’ She reaches Ava, who is fast to take her in a hug.

  ‘I’m so happy for you.’

  ‘Don’t be,’ Kate gripes. ‘I’m walking like John Wayne for all the wrong reasons.’ Her joke, delivered flat and dry, sets all of us off laughing.

  Sam places Betty in Kate’s arms. ‘Yeah, how long until . . . you know . . .’ He nods down at Kate’s hips.

  Her look is pure filth. ‘I only have enough energy to stab you.’ She drops a light kiss on Betty’s head, all the while keeping daggers on Sam, who’s grinning like a fool.

  ‘It’ll be a month at least,’ I tell my clueless mate, relishing his horrified look. I feel his pain. That month after the twins were born was the longest fucking month of my life. Giving him a slap on the shoulder, I sigh, raising my hand and gesturing some wanking action. ‘Meet your new best friend.’

  He groans and slips his arm around Kate’s shoulders. ‘It’s a good job I love this crazy woman. Let’s get coffee before I fall asleep here and now.’

  We start to wander to the small café at the end of the corridor, Kate wobbling along with the help of a very attentive Sam, me and Ava following. I look down at her, finding her thoughtful. I’m speaking before my brain engages. ‘You know, if you wanted another . . .’

  I have absolutely no fucking clue where that just came from. What the actual fuck? Who put those words in my mouth? I know who. That bastard thing called decency. Or is it guilt? Desperation? I don’t know, but what I do know is that if she really really wanted to have another baby, I’d find a way to deal with it. If only just so she could be pregnant and remember it again, to go through birth and have that experience to remember. To be a mother to a baby and a toddler. To have the first tooth and the first day of school. Pain churns in my gut. It’s only now it dawns on me just how much she’s missing from our children’s lives, and while I would love nothing more than for her to have those memories back, I have to accept that they may not come. So maybe I could give her some in another way. Am I being gallant? Or have I completely lost the plot? I conclude, quite speedily, that it’s the latter. What the hell am I thinking? The sweat beads on my brow are instant.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ Ava chuckles, clearly noticing my suddenly awkward form. ‘I don’t.’

  ‘Thank fuck,’ I breathe, all kinds of relived. I don’t think I’ve ever suggested anything so dumb. I’m fifty, for fuck’s sake. I’m done making babies.

  Chapter 42

  We’re back to silence as we sit outside Ava’s doctor’s office, my foot nervously tapping the carpet until Ava’s forced to reach forward and place a firm hand on my knee to stop it. ‘I’m sorry.’ I sigh, taking her hand and bringing it to my mouth, kissing the back. My knee starts going loopy again, adrenalin making it bounce. I can’t stop it.

  Ava sighs, exasperated, jumping up and sitting on my lap, a last-ditch attempt to get my shakes under control. It’s a ridiculous plan. Her weight. My strength. She starts jerking away on my lap like she could be vibrating. ‘Fucking hell, Jesse.’

  My trembles stop, just like that. ‘Will you watch your fucking mouth?’ Her swearing won’t help me, and neither does her insolence in the form of rolling eyes.

  ‘Ava Ward,’ someone calls from behind us before I can unleash more displeasure on her, and I look to see Dr Peters standing at his office door. He smiles, taking in the sight of my lap full of Ava. ‘Please, come in.’

  We walk into his office and take a seat in front of his desk. I flick Ava a look, trying to read her disposition once again. She looks perfectly cool. Content, even.

  ‘How are you, Ava?’ the doctor asks, slipping his glasses on and scanning her medical file on his desk.

  ‘I’m good,’ she replies quickly, reaching for my hand and squeezing.

  ‘And the headaches?’ He looks up over his glasses and smiles a little, noting our held hands.

  ‘They’ve subsided.’

  He starts jotting down notes. ‘What about physical movements? Your coordination, for example?’

  All I see in my mind’s eye is Ava’s hand finding my cock with perfectly steady hands. Her coordination is just fine, though I refrain from telling the doc that. ‘She still has a slight limp,’ I say, knowing Ava won’t. ‘And her head is still fragile around the wound.’

  ‘To be expected.’ He gets up and circles his desk, taking a small penlight and bending to shine it in Ava’s eyes. ‘And your sensory functions?’

  I raise my brows, and Ava flicks a coy look my way. ‘I can feel, see, smell, hear and taste.’

  I smile back at her, despite it being inappropriate. ‘I’ll vouch for that.’ I flip her a wink, letting my muscles relax for the first time since I walked into this office.

  ‘Good.’ He slips the light into his jacket pocket and checks the site of
her head injury, nodding happily, before checking her leg, too. He returns to his chair. ‘Any breakthroughs in your memories?’ Resting back, he taps his pen on the palm of his spare hand.

  She shrugs, glancing at me. ‘Small things here and there.’

  ‘No matter how small or insignificant they may seem, they’re all important.’ Another smile. ‘Your symptoms are classic to traumatic amnesia, Ava. I’m very hopeful that given time and patience, your memories will return. The brain is an immensely complex organ, and the function of our memories engages many different parts of it. In your case, a blow to the head has damaged the structure of your brain and the limbic system which controls your emotions and memories.’

  Patience. The stuff I’m not well furnished with.

  ‘Obviously we’re focused on retrieving your memories, Ava, but may I ask how you see your future?’

  I feel my forehead furrow with a frown, and I look across to Ava. She’s staring at the doctor, seeming just as confused by his question as me. ‘I’m sorry, I don’t follow,’ she tells him.

  Good. Me neither. I redirect my attention across the desk to find the doctor smiling again. All these smiles are beginning to irritate me. What’s there to be so pleased about? ‘It’s common for sufferers of amnesia to find it hard to imagine their future when so much of their past is missing. The past and our futures are linked heavily in our memories and the people in our lives, so it’s common for patients to struggle with the prospect of their future.’

  ‘Ava is not struggling with the prospect of her future,’ I pipe up, unable to stop myself. What is he suggesting?

  For the first time, the doctor looks wary of me. Good. He should be. ‘Ava?’ he says, keeping his eyes on me.

  ‘I don’t see my future,’ she says quietly, and I throw a look her way, deeply injured, and very worried. What? ‘I feel it more than see it,’ she finishes. ‘With Jesse and the twins. It’s hard to explain.’ She shakes her head, frustrated. ‘At first I was frightened and confused. I didn’t know him.’ I shrink into the chair, my hand coming up to my forehead and rubbing gently. ‘But it didn’t take long for me to realise that I do know him. Every sense I have recognises him, even if my stupid brain doesn’t. And as for my children, I feel like I have a huge piece of me missing right now, and it isn’t the memories. It’s them. Their presence.’