Chapter 24
Chapter Twenty-Four
Ava
The second he’s gone, I’m in the bathroom, heaving over the toilet.
I sink to the cold tile floor wondering if what I’m feeling is morning sickness, anxiety from holding my hands against Jeremy’s bloodied throat, or guilt over the fact that I just made love to a man who was definitely not my husband.
The man I was with was different. More aggressive. Touching me in a demanding way I’ve never been touched. Whispering provocative words when he was inside me. Making me come twice—something I’ve never experienced.
I’m confused. Ashamed. Excited. Satiated. Sad. Mad. And probably a few other emotions I can’t put my finger on.
Because I may not have been making love to my husband, but the fact is, I liked it. Maybe a little too much.
As I sit here, wallowing in guilt, confusion, and yes, pleasurable aftershocks of what he just did to me, I wonder how he would feel about our encounter if his memory returns.
Would the old Trevor be mad at me for jumping into bed with a man who I felt I barely knew?
Upset that I reacted so enthusiastically to things we’d never experienced together? Would he be jealous of… himself?
I don’t even pretend to understand how the brain works. If he remembers who he is, will it be like a light switch and suddenly he’ll go back to being exactly who he was? The doctors did say he could still have a personality shift.
Pulling my knees to my chest, I wrap my arms tightly around them when I’m bombarded with traitorous thoughts of never again being able to experience multiple orgasms, or the raking of his teeth against my nipples, or his salacious whispers in my ear.
I’m not going to lie to myself. I’m well aware of why I slept with him. I was hoping it would spark his memory. Well, it sparked something. But not in him. In me. A hidden desire to be completely taken. Revered. Controlled.
I slump back against the wall. Or maybe it’s just my pregnancy hormones gone amuck.
The doorbell chimes just as I’m getting dressed after my third shower of the day. I trot down the stairs and open the outer door.
A man I don’t know looks up from his clipboard. “Delivery for Criss.”
I’m confused because all the coffee house deliveries come in the morning. Not to mention this guy rang the residence doorbell, not the shop one.
“Delivery?” I ask, looking behind him where my eyes fall on a furniture truck.
“That’s what it says.” He hands me a slip of paper.
My eyebrows shoot up. “A sofa bed?”
Trevor’s name is on the order. Along with his phone number, our address, and the last four digits of our credit card.
So this is really happening.
“Ma’am, do you want the delivery or not?”
“Yes.”
“Then do you mind showing me where you want it? Got six more stops to make today, and your rush delivery isn’t moving my day along any quicker.”
Rush delivery. Suddenly, tingles of excitement shoot through me. If he paid for expedited delivery, that means he wants to sleep here now. Tonight.
But those tingles turn to slow roils of my stomach when I ask myself a question I’m not sure I’m prepared to answer.
Am I excited because this increases the potential of him being in my bed again?
Because our close proximity could help with the recovery of his past?
Or do I simply want to be near the man who was, and may never again be, my Trevor?
“You slept together?” Regan asks, her face full of both excitement and surprise. “Well, good for you. I guess everything is out in the open then.”
For the hundredth time today, guilt eats away at me. “Not exactly.”
I’m holding one-year-old Mitchell, paging through a Dr. Seuss book, and trying to envision the day when I’ll be doing this with my own child.
“What do you mean, not exactly?”
I put Mitchell down and he toddles away after their cat.
Laying a hand on my stomach, I confess, “I couldn’t tell him.
I wanted to, but when he came in and saw me naked and then he just took complete control of the situation…
Of me… I even started to say it, but he—” I cover my eyes in shame.
“He did things to make me stop talking.”
“You’re blushing.”
I want to argue, but I can feel the heat on my chest and face.
“Oh, my god, Ava. What kinds of things did he do?”
Flashes of what happened mere hours ago race through my mind.
“I can’t even describe it, Ray. Everything about him is different.
His hair. His beard. The way he carries himself.
” My eyes close. “The way he makes love.” I open my teary eyes.
“I’m not sure either of us was doing it for the right reasons.
And now he’s going to be staying at the apartment in the guest room.
” My head shakes. “What if he never remembers? What if we can never get back to where we were? What if he can’t be the man I need him to be? ”
Her hand weaves around my back and she pulls me in for a hug. “This whole time you’ve been worried that he might not want you anymore. But did you ever think about the fact that he might be thinking the very same thing about you?”
I tilt my head in contemplative thought. “It never crossed my mind until he said something earlier about me having to decide if I can be with the person he is, not was.”
“And have you decided?”
“He’s the father of my child, Regan.”
“That’s not an answer.” She pulls away and puts her hands on my shoulders, looking me square in the eyes.
“You’ve changed too, you know. The old Ava would never in a million years keep something from Trevor.
It still floors me that you did those additional embryo transfers behind his back, and now you’re not telling him about the baby.
I mean, who are you?” Deep concern is etched into her every word. “That’s not the Ava I know.”
My lungs completely deflate. She’s right.
I know she’s right. “I’m going to tell him soon.
But I’m afraid that when I do, he’ll only want me because I’m the mother of his child and he’ll feel he has to be with me because it’s the right thing to do.
” I glance away and admit my worst fear.
“Or worse. He’ll run because it’s not something this new version of him wants. ”
“Ava, you just had sex with the man. I’m pretty sure he wants you for other reasons.”
I want to argue. To tell her how the situation with Jeremy in the coffee shop most likely led to our encounter.
That it was about blowing off steam, sating an adrenaline rush, not him wanting me.
But I don’t say a word. Because if I don’t say it out loud, I can pretend the whole encounter was about me and not other extenuating circumstances.
“How soon are you planning on telling him?” She glances at my belly. “With your slender figure, you’re going to start showing far sooner than I did.”
“When the blood tests come back and I know the sex of the baby. And that she’s healthy. Probably less than a week.”
Her brows shoot up. “She?”
I crack a smile. “I just know it’s a girl. Did you know? With Mitchell?”
“I never had a feeling per se. But I think I wanted a boy from the start. I’d been through so much shit with guys and my weight, I didn’t want a daughter to have to go through what I did.
” She looks reverently over at her son as if perhaps he’s a miracle too.
“But enough about that. Now that we’ve established you’re going to tell your husband you’re having his baby, and we’ve also discovered he has hidden talents in the sex department, will you please fill me in on what happened with Jeremy Fields this morning? I’ve only heard rumors.”
As I recount the experience—telling her how scared I was, and how Trevor stepped in and took complete control over the situation—I find myself experiencing another emotion to add to the mixed bag of feelings I’ve been confronting over the past few hours: pride.
I’ve never seen him work before. And even though I was terrified and it was pure chaos, I was astonished at his ability to recall exactly what to do and how to do it. He’s meant to help people.
I turn and gaze out Regan’s window. If he can’t remember me… us… I’m at least happy he remembers how to do the very thing he loves. I guess that will have to be enough. Even though my heart craves so much more from him, it will have to be enough. For now.
But can it be enough forever? Can he be enough for me if he can’t ever find his way back to the us we once were?