Falling For Ava (British Billionaires 2)

Fanciful? The nerve! There were times, although they weren’t that often, that Ashton could be so infuriatingly obnoxious. This was one of them.

Festering quietly, I watched him retreat into the bathroom, helping himself to a shower after his long journey. It seemed he hadn’t bothered to pack any clothes. I was almost certain he had left his office and immediately gone to JFK to book the next flight out to Heathrow. Hatching a plan without forethought was so unlike him. Maybe it was his love for me, or maybe it was to save us from utter humiliation, because divorce would target us for gossipmongers.

The thought of my mother’s cold expression and Ashton’s mother’s disapproval left me feeling a little ill. I wasn’t sure of his motives yet, but I knew one thing for certain: Ashton wasn’t the kind of man who backed down when the situation was difficult. He would see through it, through thick and thin, through sickness and health, until death do we part—the latter being his chosen vow, whispering the very words before he consummated our marital bond.

Doing as he requested, I made a call for room service and ordered a light meal that consisted of bread with a side of assorted jams, a fruit plate with a side of cream, different selections of cheeses, orange juice, cheese omelet, and a pot of coffee.

Ever since Reiss/Craig had left last night, I had barely nibbled on anything. The thought of him and the discussion I must have with Ashton left no enticing impression of hunger on me since my body was wired with jitters and tension. I knew I was about to take on one of the riskiest things I had ever done in my life. Being alone at twenty-eight wasn’t something I had ever imagined happening to me; alas, I had to do what was right for me.

Striding to the windows, I gazed out towards the river Thames as I waited for Ashton to come out of the shower and for the food to arrive.

Life truly was unpredictable. A week ago, I would’ve laughed if someone had told me I would be asking for a divorce from my loving and dutiful husband of ten years. Even more so at the notion of encountering the ghost of my past in real flesh and blood and not in my dreams any longer.

From the background sounds that Ashton was making, I knew he was about to come out of the bathroom any second. It saddened me to see such ache in those blue eyes of his. Those eyes I had grown up with, that had comforted me—it was those eyes I had looked at when I was in such visceral pain, and the same ones I had held when I said my vows. And here I was, ready to break that bond.

After hearing the familiar sound of the bathroom door opening, his steps approached to where I was standing. From the reflection of the glass, I could see him behind me, staring at me with a deep frowning expression.

We remained still for a few minutes until he took the plunge and came towards me, hugging me from behind before closing his eyes as he leaned his cheek against my head, whispering into my ear, “I’m not giving you up. Marriages always have their ups and downs, and we are unfortunately in a bad patch of it. We can get through this—I know we can. We can fix whatever’s making you unhappy. Just tell me what to do and I’ll do it. Just don’t—just don’t ask me to let you walk away, because I bloody can’t. I just cannot let that happen. I love you too much, Ava.”

Tears sprung into my eyes in no time. The pain in his voice went straight into my heart. Could it be possible? Could we fix this? I was going to confess everything to him after we ate, and if his sentiments changed, then I would know I was doing us a favor. However, if it didn’t, then I needed to ponder harder, see what I should do from there.

The knock on the door made him break free from me before he went about to opening it. After tipping the room service waiter, we both sat in the dining area with him sitting to my left at the head of the table.

For a few silent minutes, I watched as he busied himself with pouring the coffee, adding cream and sugar before stirring it in slow, casual circles. His reticence was unnerving, and I had to urge myself to do something other than stare at his movements.

Choosing the decadent fruits before me, I slowly transferred a few on my plate before taking a hefty dollop of cream. I wasn’t at all hungry, but I knew I had to eat something or else I wouldn’t have enough energy to argue with Ashton.

As I slowly sliced a portion of my cantaloupe, my thoughts flittered back to Reiss. Was he serious about not seeing me again? True, he had been callous, but I deserved his wrath. Although, we both knew he had left with so many unanswered questions, and I needed answers to them. He simply couldn’t leave me hanging like this, could he? Craig was a cold bastard, but I knew the Reiss I used to know was somewhere in there underneath the hate and the layers of suffering he had gone through. I still meant to make amends even after he had treated me as if I was only a whore he could have a night with and nothing more.

If he was going for shock value, he had delivered it in spades. If he was aiming to hurt, he had successfully accomplished it. Regardless, none of those things would hinder my determination in trying to make the wrongs into rights.

“Ava?” Ashton’s soft voice broke through my thoughts as I grew pink with embarrassment from my thoughts of another man while I was sharing a meal with my husband. “Care to tell me what’s been happening since you got here in England?”

Well, hell. How did I go about telling him that I had been involved with another man, a man he had a history of loathing? Shame and mortification made me redden even more as I looked away from him.

“I … uh …” I bit the bottom of my lip as I prayed dearly, hoping my confession wouldn’t cause him to have a heart attack. “I sort of slept with someone.” Reluctantly, I gazed towards him.

He was staring at this coffee while his hands were gripping the fork and knife. He had been about to bring the piece of omelet to his mouth yet had stopped midway. His hands shook a little as he locked his jaw, rage seething out of him. His handsome face contorted with emotions, ranging from fury to sadness, desolation, and being gutted alive.

“Why?” he croaked out, still eerily staring at this coffee.

Why? Loneliness and disappointment had been my constant companion for the last several years of being married to him. It wasn’t an excuse—I knew that—but it was the grounds that had led me astray. I had this gaping hole inside of me that needed to connect with another soul, and his emotional unavailability had merely widened this gap.

“First, I need you to understand that my actions are my own, and the blame is solely mine. I thought it best to say that out loud in case there’s any confusion later on. You and I have been leading separate lives ever since we failed at getting pregnant, though it’s not your fault that your workload has quadrupled since your advancement at work. I’ve been quietly dealing with my own heartbreak and feeling inept at conceiving a baby when thousands of women get pregnant on a daily basis. I felt like a failure at doing something that nature has freely given to all females. The nightmares and self-loathing haven’t subsided, though months have passed. I’ve harbored ill feelings towards myself to the point of self-destruction …” It gave me shivers as I recalled the intense feelings I had possessed for myself and how much I had contemplated what my purpose was all about.