This Man Confessed

‘There, see.’ Sam joins the persuasion party. ‘We’ll stay and Drew can take you home for a while.’

‘No!’ I shrug Kate off. ‘I’m not f**king leaving, so just stop it!’ I look straight to Jesse, waiting for my scorn, but nothing. ‘Wake up!’

‘Okay,’ Kate treads gently. ‘We’ll stop, but please eat, Ava.’

‘Kate,’ I sigh tiredly, trying my hardest not to lose my temper. ‘I’ve eaten some salad.’

‘Fine,’ She stands, clearly frustrated, and returns to the others. ‘I don’t know what else to do.’ She steps into Sam’s arms when he opens them. Drew looks at me sorrowfully, and I’m reminded that he must be having a tough time himself at the moment, dealing with a woman who used him to try and trap my husband. I’ve heard the odd word from Kate when she’s tried to distract me with conversation, but I don’t know the full story. I do know that Drew has committed himself to the situation, though. Not to Coral, just the baby, a commendable thing to do, given how she’s deceived him.

‘We’ll go,’ John prompts, turning to the others and virtually pushing them from the room. I’m grateful, just managing to be courteous enough to croak a goodbye before returning all of my attention to Jesse.

My head rests back down on the bed, and I fight the heaviness of my eyes for the longest time until my defiance fails me and they slowly close, sending me to a land where I’m refusing to do anything he asks me, just so he resorts to his touching tactics. And he’s touching me now, his big palm circling my messy, naturally dried hair, but in my dream I look perfect, not tired, pale and scruffy in my lounge pants and one of his worn t-shirts, the one that I told my mum to retrieve from the laundry basket and which I’ve not replaced in all the time I’ve been here.

I’m in a happy place, reliving every moment with this man, all of the laughter, passion and frustrations. Every word exchanged and every touch between us is on replay through my mind. Each second, each step we’ve taken together and each time our lips have met. I don’t miss a moment. His tall, lean body rising from his desk the first time I met him, his beauty growing with every pace he took towards me until his scent saturated me when he leaned in to kiss me. And his potent touch which sparked the most incredible feelings within me. It’s vivid, it’s clear and it’s blissful. From the moment I stepped into that office, I was destined to be with this man.

‘My beautiful girl is dreaming.’

I don’t recognise the voice, but they are his words, so I know it’s him. I want to answer him, take my opportunity to tell him so many things, yet my desperation still doesn’t help me find my voice. So I settle for the lingering echo of his words and his continued touch, which is now gently caressing my cheek.

A loud bleeping sound stuns me from my happy slumber and my head flies up hopefully, but I find his eyes are still closed and his hands are where I’ve held them—one in mine and the other draped lifelessly by his side. I’m disorientated and wincing at the screaming noise, which I soon realise is his drip, shouting that he’s out of fluids. Pulling myself up, I reach up to call the nurse, but jump when I hear a muffled moan. I don’t know why I jump, it’s low and quiet, not at all fright worthy, but my heart is racing, anyway. I watch his face closely, thinking that perhaps I’ve imagined it.

But then his eyes move under his lids and my heart rate increases further. I want to pinch myself to ensure that I’m not still asleep, and I think I actually do because I definitely feel a harsh little stab of pain, even through the numbness of my grief.

‘Jesse?’ I whisper, dropping his hand in favour of his shoulder so I can shake him a little, which I know I shouldn’t be doing. He moans again and his legs shift under the thin cotton sheet. He’s waking up. ‘Jesse?’ I should be calling the nurse, but I don’t. I should be shutting that machine up, but I don’t. I should be talking quietly, but I’m not. ‘Jesse!’ I shake a little more.

‘Too loud.’ he complains, his voice broken and dry, his eyes going from relaxed closed to clenched closed.

I reach over him and punch the button on the machine to shut it up. ‘Jesse?’

‘What?’ he grumbles irritably, lifting his hand to clench his head. Every fear and grief stricken emotion flows freely from my body and light engulfs me. Bright light. Hopeful light.

‘Open your eyes,’ I demand.

‘No, it f**king hurts.’

‘Oh God.’ My relief is incredible, almost painful, as it courses like lightening through my depleted body, bringing me back to life. ‘Try.’ I beg. I need to see his eyes.

He groans some more, and I can see him struggling to follow through on my unreasonable order. I don’t relent, doing the kind thing of telling him to stop. I need to see his eyes.

And there they are.

Not as green or addictive, but they have life in them and they are squinting, adjusting to the subtle glow of light in the room. ‘Fucking hell,’

I’ve never been so pleased to hear two words. It’s Jesse and it’s familiar. I stupidly dive on him, kissing his bearded face and only stop when he hisses in pain. ‘Sorry!’ I blurt, pushing myself away and causing him more discomfort.

‘Fucking hell, Ava.’ His face screws up, his eyes closing again.

‘Open your eyes!’

He does, and I’m beyond thrilled to see him scowling at me. ‘Then stop f**king inflicting pain on me, woman!’