down for effect. I don't know that for sure and in actual fact, I suspect he probably will. He's got a plan and a motive. But why?
'Yes, he will. He'll follow you there, trust me. He's relentless in his pursuit of women.'
I actually laugh. 'Just like you did?'
'That was different!' he barks. He closes his eyes and lifts his fingertips to his temples to start rubbing away the tension.
'You're impossible.' I spit. I've lost the will to live.
'And what are you doing taking vitamins?' He scowls good and proper. 'You're pregnant, aren't you?'
Is he winding me up? I grab the vitamins from my bag and throw them at his head. His eyes widen as he ducks stealthily out of the way and they crash against the wall before falling to the kitchen floor. I need to regain control. I'm losing it in a big way.
'I bought the vitamins for you.' I yell, and he looks at me like I could possibly be a fruit loop. I'm close.
'Why?' He looks at the pot on the floor.
'You put your body through the mill. Have you forgotten?'
He scoffs. 'I don't need pills, Ava. I've told you.' He stalks forward and grabs my arms, pulling me close to his face. 'I am not a fucking alcoholic. If I drink now, it will be because you make me crazy mad!' He shouts the last bit in my face.
'You blame this all on me.' I state. I'm not asking it as a question because he has already shouted it in my face.
He drops me and walks away. 'No, I don't,' His hands yank on the back of his hair in frustration. 'What else are you keeping from me? Business trips with rich Dutch men,' He glares at me. 'Cosy visits to the ex-boyfriend?'
'Cosy?' I splutter. He thinks seeing Matt was cosy? 'You stupid fucking man!'
'MOUTH!'
'Get lost!' I shout. He really is on another planet. If he knows me as well as he claims he does, then he wouldn't be throwing such stupid insinuations around.
He throws his hands in the air in a Lord-give-me-strength gesture. 'I can't be around you right now,' he bellows. He clenches his teeth, and I see the muscles of his jaw ticking. 'I fucking love you, Ava. So fucking much, but I can't look at you. This is fucked up!' He stalks out of the kitchen.
I hear the front door slam and moments later, an almighty crash. I run out to the penthouse foyer and Jesse is nowhere to be seen, but the mirrored door of the elevator is shattered into a million pieces. Through my derangement, I instantly think of what further damage he has done to his poor hand. Then, I cry. Hopeless, howl at the moon, blubbering. I feel completely helpless and out of control. I feel like I'm being tested, like he is trying me to see if I have the strength to get him through this total mess and on top of that, I'm battling with the incessant niggling thought that it's me who has made him like this. It's not healthy.
I walk back into the big open living area and see all of my bags placed in a neat row at the side of the stairs. What should I do with them? Am I staying?
I leave them and not knowing what else to do, I go and sit myself on a sun lounger on the decking area and cry to myself - loud, shoulder shaking, pouring tears crying, while I try to find some direction and guidance. I'm coming up with nothing between my relentless tears. I'm staring into space and feeling nothing but abandoned. Familiar feelings, all of which I never wanted to feel again, are flooding back into me - the empty feeling, the lost, lonely and dejected emotions that had me residing in the lowest levels of hell while Jesse wasn't in my life. How have I come to need him so much? How has this happened to me? He's walked out, and now I've got a good idea of how he felt when I did the same to him. It's not a nice feeling. I feel like a massive part of me is missing.
It is.
The thought of him not being around makes my heart jump into my throat, makes my breath hitch and panic attack me. This is hopeless. I take myself back into the penthouse, upstairs to the master-suite and have a shower. I stand under the sprays of water absentmindedly