This Man Confessed(60)

“I’m so sorry,” I say quietly.

He doesn’t speak. He stands and lifts me with him before taking me to his car and depositing me in the passenger seat, remaining silent as he buckles me in. Taking his phone from the inside pocket of his suit jacket, he shuts the door before walking off and making a call while he moves my new car to the side of the driveway.

He returns and puts my bag between my feet before driving us home in complete silence.





Chapter Thirteen



He still hasn’t said a word by the time we pull up at Lusso. He gets out and collects me, walking me straight past a cautious-looking Casey and putting me in the penthouse elevator. I glance up at him, but he’s keeping his gaze pointed forward, not even meeting my eyes when I look at him in the reflection of the doors. When he opens the door into the penthouse, Cathy appears from the kitchen, her happy smile dropping away as soon as she notices her cheerfulness isn’t being reciprocated.

“Is everything okay?” She assesses us both, then looks to Jesse for an answer, but he just hands me my bag and nods toward the stairs. I look at him, silently begging for some words. He doesn’t indulge me. He nods again.

“Boy?” Cathy prompts warily.

“Ava’s not feeling too well.” He lightly pushes into my back with his hand, urging me forward.

“Are you coming?” I ask.

“I’ll be up in a minute. Go.” He reinforces his words with a firmer push of his hand, and I leave him with Cathy.

As I’m passing Jesse’s sweet housekeeper, she reaches out and gently strokes my shoulder, giving me a small smile. “I’m glad you’re home, Ava.”

I return her smile. It’s a feeble smile. I feel uncertain and a little concerned by Jesse’s despondent state. “Thank you.” I make my way upstairs, entering the master suite and settling on the end of the bed.

My eyes are brimming with tears again as I clutch my knees to my chest and wait for him. I know that right now is when we’ll talk about this, now that we have both acknowledged what is happening, but in order to have a talk, both of us need to be speaking, and Jesse doesn’t look like he plans on saying anything. I have no idea what is going through that crazy mind of his and the strained atmosphere is pushing doubts back into me. I need reassurance, not silence, not time to talk my way back out of this.

My head snaps up when he enters the bedroom, but he doesn’t look at me. Instead, he goes straight to the bathroom. I hear the waterfall tap of the bath start pouring and his movements as he follows through on his usual bath time routine. We’re having a bath?

After way too long just sitting on the bed, listening to the water running and Jesse’s quiet activities, he eventually walks soundlessly into the bedroom. Taking my hand and pulling me up from the bed, he strips me down, removes my diamond and my Rolex before picking me up and carrying me into the bathroom.

He lowers me gently into the bath. “Is the water okay?” he asks softly, releasing me and kneeling by the side of the tub.

“It’s fine,” I answer, watching as he removes his suit jacket and unbuttons the cuffs of his shirt before pushing them up his arms. He collects the sponge and dips, then squeezes some soap on it and turns me away from him. He starts gliding it across my back in gentle, steady strokes.

I’m confused. “Aren’t you getting in?” I ask quietly. I want him to lay behind me so I can feel him, take comfort in him. I need that.

“Let me look after you.” His voice is low and unsure. I don’t like it.

I turn myself around to face him, finding glazed green eyes and a stoic expression. It pulls at my heart. I’ve really fucked with his mind this time. “I need you closer than this.” I reach up with my wet hand and lay my palm on his cheek. “Please.”

He watches me carefully for a few moments, like he’s deciding whether he should, but he eventually sighs and drops the sponge, then stands and slowly removes his clothes. Stepping in behind me, he lowers himself to cocoon me completely. I feel immediately better with his warm hardness cradling me, but I can’t see him, so I turn over and sit on his lap, encouraging his knees up so I can lean back and look at him. I take his hands and interlace our fingers, and we both watch in silence as we play with each other’s hands, our tangled fingers glimmering now and then when our rings catch the reflections of the water. It’s not a difficult silence anymore.

“Why did you lie to me, Ava?” he whispers, still watching our snaking fingers working together.

My movements falter for a few moments but don’t stop completely. “I’m scared.” He needs to know that this whole situation terrifies me.