This Man Confessed(156)

“Ava,” Jesse’s calming voice just infuriates me further. “Calm yourself down, baby.” His palm slides around to my front to hold my tummy. He’s worried about my blood pressure, the anxious fool. My blood pressure should be the least of his worries. Blood spilt, that’s what he should be concerned about.

“I’m calm.” I’m clearly not. “I won’t ask you again.” I push Jesse’s hand away from my stomach, but he doesn’t let me get away with it. He pulls me back so I’m slightly behind him, and then holds his arm out to the side in silent warning. It won’t work, but he starts speaking before I can wrestle his arm out of my way.

“Coral, I’ve told you before. It’s never going to happen.” His tone is tinged with anger, but after my little performance, I can’t be sure if his fury is for my benefit or Coral’s. “You need to fuck off and find someone else to stalk.”

I’m mentally cheering him on, even though I’m sure that I’m in for it when she concedes and clears off. I must look ridiculous in Jesse’s shirt, my hair a wild mass, yesterday’s makeup on, and restrained by my virtually naked husband.

Coral’s eyes cross from Jesse’s to mine a few times before she settles her smug stare on my god again. I don’t like that look. It’s bold, and I’m sure her next words will be, too. She’s going nowhere until she’s said what she came to say, and I’m annoyingly curious of what that is exactly.

“Have it your way.” She shrugs nonchalantly and holds a piece of paper out to Jesse.

“What the fuck is that?” he barks.

“Take a look for yourself.” She flaps the paper, encouraging Jesse to take it. I can’t help it; my neck is craning to try and see for myself, but his arm pushes me back again.

He snatches it, and I watch as his head drops to look, and then I look at Coral, who is performing the best sly smirk I have ever had the pleasure of witnessing. My eyes are on Jesse’s back, which is as stiff as a board, his muscles protruding, indicating his tension.

“What is it?” The question I don’t want to ask just slips right out. But he doesn’t answer.

Coral does, though. “That is a scan picture of his baby.”

I know I stagger back, and I know he has turned to steady me, but everything is a blur. “Fucking hell.” His worried voice is nothing but a drowned-out rush of noise, and I know it’s because all of the blood is draining from my head. I feel dizzy. “Shit, Ava.” My feet disappear from under me, but I don’t hit the floor. I’ve not passed out. I’ve been scooped up, and in a split second, I’m sitting on the couch with my head being pushed between my legs. “Breathe, baby. Just breathe.” His palm is on my head, rubbing soothing, fast, anxious circles. “What the fuck are you playing at?” he yells away from me. “You stupid fucking woman! I’ve not slept with you for months!”

“Four months, and I’m four months gone.” She answers quickly and proudly. “Do the math.”

I need to get my breathing under control because the rush is still whirring and the black is starting to set in. I’ll fall flat on my face if I stand.

“You can’t be,” Jesse snaps anxiously, sounding far too unsure. “Fuck!”

This is it. That baby will be born before either of mine and knowing Jesse’s desperation for a child, he’ll take the first one he can lay his hands on. He’ll leave me. I’ll be alone with two screaming babies and no help. My babies will be fatherless. Who’s going to rub my feet when they’re swollen? Who’s going to love me in lace when I’m covered in stretch marks? Who’s going to make me eat when I’m not hungry and feed me folic acid and lick peanut butter from my breasts and paint my toenails when I can’t reach them? I start to choke on panic, but then my eyes fall onto the little piece of paper that Jesse has dropped to the floor in favor of tending to me. He didn’t look at that picture like he did of our babies’ picture. He didn’t drop to his knees or grab Coral to hug her. What is wrong with me? I feel like a mixed bag of overexaggerated emotions. I stoop and pick up the black-and-white scan picture. I’m being watched, by both of them, but I take my time, first noting Coral’s name. This is definitely hers. But what isn’t on this scan picture is a date. Neither is there an estimated gestation. I study the picture more closely.

“Ava, what are you doing?” Jesse asks, trying to get me in his field of vision, but I ignore him.

“Yes, what are you doing?” Coral hisses.