Falling for Ava

by Pamela Ann

  My ears pounded as I stared at him, dumfounded and in complete shock to the point that I felt almost paralyzed from it.

  Child. He’d said Ava was carrying a child. And he had already concluded the baby was mine. What if Ava had slept with more men than she was ready to admit? How sure could he be that it wasn’t his in the first place? From what I had gathered, he seemed like a man who truly loved her through thick and thin; subsequently, I was almost sure he had already had her in more ways than possible. After all, it had been over a month since that fatal encounter.

  “Here’s a pen for you to sign, Chambers.” He handed me his pen while I unblinkingly frowned at it, feeling as if I was freefalling.

  “Ava’s pregnant?” I finally said out loud, still fazed and in complete disarray. “How sure are you that it’s mine?”

  “She’s one hundred percent sure that it’s your DNA she’s carrying.”

  Then, if the child was mine, I would want to be a part of it. There’s no way in hell I’d let the baby think he or she was a Westwood when it was truly half of mine and not Ashton’s.

  “She’s pregnant, and she didn’t care to tell me this significant detail herself?” I instantly got up, almost kicking the chair out of my way as I strode towards the glass, gazing down at the river Thames, truly not seeing anything due to the mere thought of my baby—my child—growing inside of Ava.

  An immediate rush of protectiveness filled me, as if it was my own right to make sure that this would pan out the way it should and not in Ashton’s favor. Never again would this man make me inferior and unworthy. He could very well do it to Ava, but I wouldn’t let him do the same to my unborn child.

  “The details are irrelevant, as you stated yourself. Why don’t you simply sign the damn form so we can move along with our lives, shall we?”

  How could he act as if this wasn’t about something important? He was adamantly telling me I should give up my rights forever because I had told the mother I didn’t want anything to do with her. Well, the rules had changed.

  “I can tell you now that I won’t ever sign it.” My parents would disown me themselves if they found out I had toyed with the idea of throwing away my own flesh and blood for some other man to take care of. “If this is truly my child, nothing will stop me from fighting for what is rightfully mine.” With that, the meeting with Ashton was immediately cut short.

  Being a father wasn’t something I had favorably put in the forefront of my mind. Of course, I had plans to marry and have children someday, but never had it occurred to me that the day would happen much sooner than expected. Moreover, my mind had never dreamed up that the child’s mother would be the woman I had vowed never to see again. Seeing her only brought the ghosts out, and I’d much rather keep them inside, locked in the closet and never peeping a sound.

  Ava was the symbol of my past and my idiocy, and whatever happened from here on out, I would never put her on a pedestal again. Fool me once, shame on me. Fool me twice, blame it on me. Fool me for the third time, I’m obviously a man without aim.

  Chapter 19

  Ava

  I had barely slept a wink since I had found out I was pregnant two days ago. In the very beginning, when I realized my period was late, I was actually afraid the doctor might tell me something along the lines of ovarian cancer or something that would indicate as to why I couldn’t conceive for so long.

  When she had beamed at me, delivering the news that I was actually in the early stages of pregnancy, I had thought it a cruel joke at first. Then, when she had kept insisting that I was, I couldn’t believe it, not until she had showed me the cutest, tiniest bean sprouting slowly inside my womb.

  I was pregnant. I’m actually pregnant! I was having a baby, and I was going to finally be a mom, just as I had dreamed for so long. My excitement had kept me awake most nights, weighing the options of telling Reiss himself, but I always came to the conclusion that it was best I kept this to myself in case he demanded I hand over the child, or worse yet, he actually stressed that maybe getting it terminated would be suitable for both parties since he loathed me to Hell and back.

  Covering my lower stomach with both my palms, I rubbed it gently, hoping it would ease the baby’s worries away as well as mine. “I’ll protect you with my life. I promise,” I whispered softly. “Nothing will come between us. It’s you and me against the world, my love.”

  Instinctively, my stomach growled, making me grin senselessly as I acknowledged it was time to eat something light. It was half past ten, and on most nights, I was on my own. Ashton visited me on a daily basis and still persisted on mending things with me. I had wanted freedom before, and after learning about the baby, I wanted it even more.

  I understood Ashton’s argument, pointing out that the baby could very well heal both of us, that it was what we had been waiting for and we could still have what we had wanted from the start. To me, though, it was already too late. Nothing could patch us, even if the very thing that had drawn us apart was my drive to becoming a mother. He had let the resentment fester inside me for two years, and I simply didn’t want to harbor any ill feelings towards him any longer. I just wanted a fresh start with no one telling me what to do.

  I had accepted that things with Reiss would never be; therefore, it was best not to hound him about this new development, even though it was a major development. I was convinced he’d someday appreciate this effort. Eventually, I’d come to my senses and tell him. As for this moment, I only wanted to bask in the warmth and enjoy this downpour of love I had for my unborn baby.

  I still had a lot of qualms about carrying it full-term because a lot could happen during this delicate stage, but I would do anything in my power to keep it safe. After all, apart from wanting Reiss to be alive again, this was all I had ever wanted.

  Drifting into the bar area, I lazily opened the fridge and took out a half pint of chocolate milk. I never could fully fathom drinking fresh milk without adding cocoa powder or strawberry syrup. I supposed, I had spent too much time as a kid wandering about the kitchen, full of curiosity, excited about the idea of anything and everything chocolate. Through the years, my mother would hire cooks that were meticulous about their pastries; thus furthering and enabling my education about its rich velvety goodness.

  I was on my fourth sip of my favorite drink, reminiscing about the past as I secretly longed to have the same experience with my child, when I heard three hard, pounding knocks on the door. Since the doorbell wasn’t used, I knew this visit was more than likely personal. Could it be Ashton?

  He’d been rather pushy, to a point where I found myself wanting to lessen my time around him. It bothered me a great deal that he wouldn’t agree to a divorce or let alone tell our parents we were thinking about it. Deep down, he harbored a great deal of hope in resurrecting our marriage; however I couldn’t see myself with him anymore. True, I still loved him and maybe a major part of me always would, yet living with him wasn’t very enriching nor was it a happy life. Coming out tonight wouldn’t change my mind, even if he begged me for the hundredth time.

  Besides, he was due back for work, and he definitely needed to get a move on. Wasting all his time and effort trying to win me back would result in nothing. I had already made up my mind, and I was sticking to it, come Hell or high water.

  Strolling towards the door as I held the bottle in my left hand, I took a dragged intake of breath as I gradually opened it just as I started saying, “Ashton, it’s late, could we please do this some other time when I have the energy to listen to—” My words became suspended mid-sentence when my gaze landed on greens and not the usual blues I was so accustomed to.

  “Ava,” he aloofly greeted me. “I believe you and I have something to discuss.”

  Bastard, I silently cursed as different thoughts ran through my head. Was he here because he wanted to see me? Or … was he here because he somehow found out about this little bean I had been trying to hide from him?

  Taking his cue, I decided
to act vague, hoping this would make him go away. “I wasn’t aware that you and I have something to discuss, Reiss.” I paused, feigning innocence. “Unless, of course, you’ve changed your mind about not wanting to do anything that had me included.”

  “Don’t take me for a fool!” he spat out before he stepped into my comfort zone, letting himself inside the room without asking permission. I could smell traces of alcohol on his breath as he passed, making me all the more aware that he was under a lot of strain. Whatever this was about, he was troubled by it.

  Closing the door, my heart thudded rapidly as I watched him pace around, stopping at the dining table before he decided to pull out a chair. He sat and stared blankly at the opposing wall, appearing as if he was studying the painting.

  “Your husband came to see me today with a contract stating I’d be willing to revoke all my rights to my child.”

  Damn and blast. I knew Ashton couldn’t be trusted with such a bombshell of a secret. He was bound to do something drastic, and idiot me had thought I could trust him about something that meant so much to me. Bugger.

  “I wasn’t aware of this. He never told me about it.”

  “Of course he didn’t.” He looked lost, causing me to feel this heavy ache deep inside because I wanted nothing more than to comfort him. However, I knew it would be unappreciated; therefore, I remained where I was, openly staring at him. “I want a part of this child, Ava, make no mistake of that. So, whatever you have under your sleeve, mark my words, I’ll fight you until I have nothing left in me. This is my child as much as yours.”

  What did he intend to do? I wasn’t planning on restricting any of his parental rights. I wasn’t some vindictive bitch who would do that to my baby’s father just because he didn’t want me. I didn’t want to be like my mother. I would rather keel over and die than be like her.

  “You must understand, I did intend for you to know. I wasn’t sure when the right time was, but I promise you, I had every intention of telling you. I admit that a lot of foolish thoughts have graced my imagination, which resulted in me postponing the intended visit to inform you. You must know, after what I’ve gone through, I’m still having a tough time accepting it. It’s been surreal—a dream come true—and I just wanted more time to myself before the rest of my friends and family finds out because, once they do, my life will be chaotic, and I need to save as much energy and positivity as possible before facing any of them.”

  He gave me questioning look. “How do we do this, Ava? I don’t know much about babies, let alone raising one. The thought alone brings a lot of doubts. I fear I might not be a good father since I don’t have any bloody clue where to even begin with this. I thought I’d choose someone to marry that would fit to be the mother of my children, then we’d raise them together. Never once did I consider that things might turn out differently than planned.” He shook his head, evoking a dry laugh. “I suppose I should’ve known that, wherever you’re concerned, I could never expect what comes next.”

  His speech hadn’t meant to hurt, but it had all the same. When would I ever stop hurting because of him?

  “I know the situation isn’t the most ideal, but we’ll cope. We can make it work as long as we’re on the same page. I guess we’ll learn … together.” I hadn’t meant for it to sound as if I wanted us to try to be a couple; as a result, I felt obliged to add, “If you’re willing to work with me, that is, then you have nothing to fear.”

  He remained silent, tormented by his own demons. Warily watching him, I gradually moved towards the sofa, feeling drained from facing him.

  It wasn’t really disappointment I felt when he had said he’d meant to marry someone he had chosen for himself to be the mother of his children, but I felt a jab from his words, either way. It made me feel unworthy of carrying his flesh and blood.

  Knowing his distrust of me, I was actually quite surprised he hadn’t asked immediately if it was truly his or demanded a DNA test. Then again, it was too early to tell. He could very well command it later on, which wouldn’t surprise me a bit. I understood fully that, whenever it came to me or anything associated with me, he had little confidence in my believability.

  “Are you okay, Reiss?” There was a snag to my voice, almost as if pleading with him to fully see me to see the woman within, crying out to reach him, anything at all. But he never did. I was lost, and he hadn’t even bothered to leave a trail of crumbs for me. He felt nothing, wanted nothing, and I should start accepting that.

  “I was just thinking … about how cruel life be …” he mused, although with little thrill in his voice. “Just when I thought life was going to get better and brighter, a whole maelstrom of fucks follows through. I guess fate put you in my life to remind me I’m nothing but a mere mortal, a defenseless human to handle whatever it throws at me. What a bloody warped trick, don’t you agree?”

  I wasn’t sure what to say; thus, I remained quiet. In fact, I was on the verge of tears, but I willed myself to get it together. I couldn’t very well breakdown right in front of the man who thought I was his bad luck. Maybe I was, though I was purely in denial of it. Was I that blinded by my own desires that I couldn’t see him for what he truly was? A broken man. A shattered man of my own making.

  I had no one to blame but myself for turning him into such a cynical bloke, too wrecked to acknowledge when a blessing had come along.

  Chapter 20

  Ava

  It was 8:04 a.m. when my phone shrilled, bringing me more of a headache. I knew the moment I took the call without glancing at the caller ID that I’d regret it. I instantly heard my mother’s screeching voice that one could compare closely to a cat being dragged by its tail, or maybe a feline sounding as if it was being murdered. It was a variation of things, but the sound was distinctively feline, for that I was sure.

  Apparently, from the small sprouts of lucidity before she went off in her feline shrilling bender, Ashton dearest had visited my father, announcing the news I had restricted him from sharing.

  Silently declaring him enemy number one, I gently rubbed my flat belly, as if apologizing for its maternal grandmother and how ungodly she could be when in the throes of demanding I straighten out my life or I would be forever disinherited from my father’s will. Her threats were simply that—threats. I knew for a fact that my father wouldn’t do such a thing, because I was his only child. Not to mention the fact that my paternal grandparents had placed a lockdown on who was going to inherit what my father had inherited to begin with, which was solely blood-related heirs, with their spouses excluded—a category my mother was in, not I. This profoundly irked her because, even though her family had money and were considered rich, they were not wealthy like my father’s family. I supposed she was one lucky lady to have a doting husband who worshipped the ground she walked on, or she’d end up divorced and penniless with a notorious temper to boot.

  “How could you disgrace your husband and your family with such foolishness, Ava? You were brought up to be better than rubbish. I didn’t raise you to become a married harlot and bear a poor man’s child!” she spat out, sounding as though she was hyperventilating over the phone. “You’re carrying a bastard child! You have to get rid of it! That’s the only way I can forgive you, or we will never speak to you again. Is that understood?”

  That did it! Gone was my sleepiness, and in came my uncontrollable rage, wanting to tear her to pieces. I blew a gasket.

  “How dare you call my baby a bastard! First off, the poor man you’re referring to isn’t so poor anymore! In fact, he’s probably ten times richer than any of us combined. And, more to the point, my child might be a bastard to the rest of you lot, but what matters most is that this child of mine will be loved. I’ll make bloody damn sure he or she won’t know how simple minded and pathetic their grandmother is, because you won’t ever know this baby!” My raging tirade wasn’t finished.

  “You’ll disown me? Well, how about I renounce you as my horrid mother? All my life, you have done nothin
g except undermine whatever it was I wanted to do because it would be embarrassing for you. Well, guess what, dearest mother? You’re your own embarrassment. No one truly respects a woman who made everyone around her want to take their own lives because it’s so much easier to die than deal with your never-ending moans and whines. No one likes you, not even your so-called friends. They all pretend they do, but the truth is, I heard one of them say they’d wish you’d disappear from their lives. Without father, you would have no one, and that’s the sad, tragic truth.”

  The line went eerily quiet, although I could hear faint traces of her breaths.

  “How dare you make such fabricated lies to hurt me! Your father will make you pay for this. I hope you and your bastard child live a hard, excruciating life. Let’s see how long you’ll last.” After the last word parted from her poisonous lips, she immediately cut the call.

  Throwing the phone on top of my duvet, I huffed as if the device had scalded me while my mother’s words rang in my ears. What sort of woman would wish their own flesh and blood to go through hardship? What kind of woman did that? That was a harsh, cold-hearted thing to say, even for her. I mean, I had known she would be a bit mad and a little off the bender, but I had still thought she possessed a functioning heart.

  Our conversation had dispelled any doubts that her soul was as black as coal. My mother was the same as always—hiding behind threats of my father’s wrath.

  Reeling from her bashful treatment, I stayed in bed until I knew I wasn’t shaking from rage. She had the knack for pressing the wrong buttons, and the second she had called my baby a bastard, the loose screw had become unhinged.

  After last night’s tiresome encounter with Reiss, I had little energy left to move. He had obviously had alcohol in his system, and therefore, he basically spouted whatever came to mind. Most of the words I wished to have never heard. My heart wasn’t in tune with my brain; both were functioning as they pleased.