She means their story and connection. And I’ve severed it. I do feel sorry for her, but nothing will ever make me stand down. Not scorned ex-lovers, high-class sex clubs, drink problems, psychotic ex-wives, the shock of a lost daughter, or the desolation of Sarah. Neither will the madness that surrounds all of those reasons. This Man has thrown everything at me, and I still don’t plan on going anywhere. Unbreakable.
“Can I see him?” she asks quietly. “I’ll understand if you refuse.”
I should refuse, but compassion prevents me. I need closure on this, and she does, too. “Sure. I’ll wait here.” I sit myself down on a hard plastic chair and watch her disappear into his room.
I don’t need to hear what will be said. I have a good idea, anyway, so instead I finish my chocolate bar, my body thanking me for the instant sugar hit.
“Ava?”
I look up and see Jesse’s mum and sister hurrying down the corridor. “Hi,” I speak around a mouthful of chocolate.
“The nurse said he’s awake. Jesse’s awake.” Beatrice looks over at the door, then back to me.
I nod and chew fast, swallowing so I can give her the information she needs. “He’s fine. Grumpy but fine.”
“Oh, thank you, Jesus!” She turns and throws her arms around Amalie. “He’s going to be okay.”
I watch as Amalie smiles over her mum’s shoulder at me. “Grumpy?”
“Or stubborn—whichever.” I shrug on a smile, and her green eyes glimmer in understanding.
“The latter, for sure,” she confirms, holding her sobbing mother in her arms. “It’s good to see you eating.”
“Where’s Henry?” I ask.
“Just parking the car. Would you mind if we see him?” Amalie asks.
I’m very abruptly hit with the hard realization that Jesse doesn’t know they’re here. And I have no idea how to handle it. After our last encounter with his parents, I should avoid subjecting him to the potentially stressful situation, but my conniving mind is jumping all over the fact that he can’t escape. And while I might be taking a huge risk, I know it will be my only opportunity to get them in the same room together. He will have to listen. If he doesn’t like what he hears, then so be it, but I’ve watched his family grieving. I saw it clearly, even through my own grief. Now is the time to put all wrongs right, no matter who is to blame.
This is what I hope, but it’s his choice, and I’ll stick by whatever he decides.
“I haven’t had the chance to tell him you’re here yet,” I explain, almost apologetically. “As soon as he woke, the doctors were on him and now a friend’s in there.”
“Can you do that?” Beatrice breaks away from Amalie and retrieves a tissue from under the cuff of her cardigan. “Can you tell him we’re here?”
“Of course, but—”
Amalie cuts me off. “We don’t want him upset, so don’t push it.”
“You’ll try, though.” Beatrice clasps my hands pleadingly. “Please, try hard for me, Ava.”
“I will.” I feel the pressure, but I also feel the desperation that’s seeping from every pore of this lady. I’m the key to her re-connecting with her son. She knows it, Amalie knows it, and I know it.
We all turn when the door to Jesse’s room opens and Sarah steps out. She’s been crying, and as she lifts her hand to wipe her eyes, the sleeve of her jacket rides up and I see a bandage around her wrist. But I’m distracted from this when I feel the hackles on Jesse’s mother rise.
Sarah’s tear-drenched eyes widen in shock. “Beatrice?” she splutters, shutting the door.
“What the hell are you doing here, you vindictive bitch!”
“Mother!” Amalie yells, shocked.
I’m shocked. Sarah is definitely shocked, and then the door to Jesse’s room swings open and he’s standing there, shocked. I gasp and rush over to him, noting he’s wrapped in a thin sheet at the waist and has practically dragged his drip and catheter frame with him. “Jesse, for God’s sake!”
“Mum?” He looks so confused and a little unsteady.
Jesse’s mother’s screwed-up face of hatred softens immediately at the sight of her son looking so pale and weak. “Oh Jesse, you stupid man. Get back in bed now!”
I look up and find nothing but puzzlement on his bearded, dazed face, and then I turn, seeing Beatrice clearly fighting her motherly instinct to put him back in bed herself. This is an incredibly bizarre situation, but as I watch Sarah skulk off quietly and see Amalie and Beatrice scanning Jesse’s tall frame worriedly, I quickly snap back into action. “Give me five minutes, Beatrice,” I say, pushing Jesse back into the room and shutting the door behind me. “What do you think you’re playing at? Get in bed!”