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 fucking 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 fucking inflicting pain on me, woman!’

I don’t think I’ve ever felt so happy. He looks terrible, but I’ll take him whichever way he comes. I don’t care. He can keep the overgrown facial hair. He can swear at me every second of every day. ‘I thought I’d lost you.’ I’m sobbing again as overpowering relief takes hold and my cheeks fall into palms to conceal my wrecked face.

‘Baby, please don’t cry when there’s fuck all I can do about it.’ I hear his shifting body, followed by a string of bad language. ‘Fuck!’

‘Stop moving!’ I scorn him, wiping my sniffling face before pushing lightly on his shoulders.

He doesn’t argue with me. He relaxes back into his pillow on an exhausted sigh, then lifts his arm and focuses on the needle hanging out, before taking a confused glance around at all of the machinery surrounding him. I see understanding settle across his face and his head whips up, his eyes wide and frightened. ‘She hurt you.’ he blurts, struggling to sit up, hissing and wincing as he does. ‘The babies!’

‘We’re okay,’ I assure him, forcing him back down to the bed. It’s hard. His sudden realisation had injected some strength into him. ‘Jesse, we’re all okay. Lay down.’

‘You’re okay?’ His hand lifts and feels its way through thin air until he finds my face. ‘Please tell me you’re okay.’

‘I’m fine.’

‘And the babies?’

‘I’ve had two scans.’ I rest my hand over his and help him feel me. It relaxes him completely, my words assisting, too. His eyes close, making me want to prod him to open, but I let him rest them. ‘I should call the nurse.’

‘No, please. Let me wake up before they start poking me about.’ His hand slides from my cheek to the nape of my neck and he applies a light pressure, silently telling me to come closer.

‘I don’t want to hurt you.’ I protest, pulling against him, but his face strains and his strength increases. ‘Jesse.’

‘Contact. Do what you’re told.’ he snaps drowsily. Even now, when he’s clearly in tremendous pain, he’s impossible.

‘Are you in much pain?’ I ask, lowering myself gently to his side.

‘Agony.’

‘I need to get the nurse.’

‘Soon. I’m comfy.’

‘No you’re not.’ I almost laugh, working around his wound to gently rest against him. I’ll give him five minutes, then I’m getting the nurse, and there is nothing he can do to stop me—literally, for once.

‘I’m glad you’re still here,’ he murmurs, using more valuable energy to turn his face into mine and kiss me. ‘I’d have given up if I didn’t constantly hear your defiant voice.’

‘You could hear me?’

‘Yes, it was strange and fucking annoying when I couldn’t tell you off. Will you ever do what you’re told?’ There is no humour in his tone. It makes me smile.

‘No,’

‘Thought not,’ he sighs. ‘I have some explaining to do.’

Those few words make me tense. ‘No you don’t.’ I blurt, trying to pull away from him so I can get the nurse, but I’m going nowhere.

‘Fuck!’ he spits, ‘Fucking, fuck, fuck, fuck!’ He’s still fighting against me, the stupid man, but I’m the one who relents, more concerned for him than he is for himself. ‘Just stay put and listen.’ he demands harshly. ‘You’re not going anywhere until I’ve told you about Rosie.’

Rosie. The name signifies unbearable heartache and years of self-torture. He should have confessed this long ago. It would have explained so many of his neurotic ways.

‘Lauren was the daughter of my mum and dad’s good friends.’ He begins, and I brace myself, realising that I’m about to get the whole story. Not just the bits that I’d like to hear about his daughter, but the parts about the psychotic woman who nearly robbed him from me. ‘I’m sure you can imagine the type—well-bred, rich and highly respected in the snotty community that we were forced to tolerate. We fooled around once and she ended up pregnant. We were seventeen, young and stupid. Can you imagine the scandal? I‘d really done it this time.’ He shifts, flinching and cursing some more.

‘Emergency meetings were called between Lauren’s family and my own, and her father demanded I marry her before word got out and ruined both of our families. Jake had not long died and I went along with it, hoping my compliance might build some bridges with my parents.’

I clench my eyes shut and hold on to him a little tighter, remembering our visit to my parents and his reaction to my mother implying that he’d married me because I was pregnant. ‘An arranged marriage?’ I ask.

‘Yes, but the joint effort of both families did an amazing job of convincing the community that we were hopelessly in love.’

‘She was.’ I whisper, knowing the direction in which this story is heading.

‘And I wasn’t.’ he confirms quietly. ‘I was married off and moved into her parents’ country estate within a month. Everyone was happy, except me.’ His fingers play idly with my hair, and he draws a painful breath before continuing. ‘Carmichael gave me an escape, and I finally plucked up the courage to call a halt on the whole diabolical farce, but when Rosie arrived, I was determined to be a dad. That little girl was the only person on the planet who loved me for me, no expectations or pressure, she just accepted me in her innocence. It didn’t matter that she was a baby.’

All of this is filling me with immense proudness, but this story doesn’t have a happily ever after. And it crushes me.

‘She was a real daddy’s girl.’ he says fondly. ‘I could do no wrong, and I knew I never would in her eyes. That was enough to make me evaluate the lifestyle I’d slipped into while Lauren was pregnant. Carmichael got the best solicitor involved to try and gain me full custody because he knew that she was my redeemer, but Lauren’s family dug up every dirty little secret, from Jake, to The Manor, to my brief lifestyle from when I left Lauren until Rosie was born. I didn’t have a hope.’