Home > Falling For Ava (British Billionaires #2)(44)

Falling For Ava (British Billionaires #2)(44)
Author: Pamela Ann

This was it! I could very well do this wherever I wanted as long as I had internet access. I could even give them an option for whether they were willing to donate on a monthly, weekly, or bi-weekly basis.

Giddy about the new project I had in mind, my brain was whirring with all the essential things I had to do tomorrow when a knock came at the door.

Hearing the ominous sound made me forget everything as I stilled, momentarily frozen. I took a moment to calm down my erratic heart rate. I knew it was him without even opening the door. I felt it all over my body. My senses immediately went on high alert, giving me a hefty warning that he was here.

“For heaven’s sake, Ava. Stop being such a besotted fool, even just for a second,” I grunted to myself as I envisioned going over to the threshold, opening the door, and greeting him as if I hadn’t waited for him in vain. I could very well pretend that I had been too busy to even think of him, as well.

Shaking off my nervousness and leaving it behind in the bedroom, I walked towards the door with my fakest yet laudable smile in place.

“Ava,” he greeted as he assessed me before taking a step farther and placing a soft kiss on my cheek.

This one simple gesture made feel all sorts of heady from his smell infiltrating my senses. It was on that moment of impact that my body felt vulnerable, my heart plainly visible, and the pain in my eyes flashed before him. It didn’t help my cause when he appeared to look impeccably gorgeous as ever, while I looked like a bedraggled cat with pronounced dark circles under my eyes from my struggling sleeping pattern.

“Reiss, it’s good to see you again,” my voice finally found itself after the momentary relapse. “Do come in.” Stepping aside to let him walk past me, I had to bite back a groan when his arm accidentally brushed one of my breasts. Even with my bra on, my breasts were highly sensitive.

“I have the papers for you to sign. Everything will be taken care of with your father’s legal team, thereafter,” he said right as I was shutting the door.

Facing him as I strolled towards where he was laying all the paperwork on the coffee table, I noted that the hair on the back of his neck had started growing, the polar opposite of the usual impeccable haircut he had donned since I had found him again. He must’ve been quite busy to neglect his grooming. My toxic thoughts could be dwelled upon once I was alone, but for the time being, I needed to gain focus and not get distracted by my suspicions and ill-feelings about his blatant rejection.

Taking the seat across from him, I picked up one of the papers, browsing through the legal jargon of what my divorce entailed. “Thanks for bringing this over, though you didn’t have to. I’m well capable of picking it up from my father’s office.”

“I’m sure you are,” he murmured as he took his seat, “but I wanted to make sure that all is set and everything is in order. I don’t want to risk any delay.”

Barely nodding my head, I took the pen that was readily available on the table before signing on the designated line. One paper after the other, I was burying Ava Westwood—the lost, broken woman who had suffered profound loneliness and had self-loathing for not being able to achieve her dream of being a mother.

Sighing deeply, I set the pen down after signing the last document, studying my penmanship. Rest in peace, Ava Westwood.

No more ghosts. I had everything I needed to have a loving, fulfilled life. Even without Reiss’s love, his company and the knowledge that I would be seeing him for the rest of my life was enough to sustain me. I had to remind myself what truly mattered.

Reiss’s life outside mine shouldn’t be held against him. He had been forthcoming with his intentions and hadn’t made any promises to me that suggested anything beyond what he could offer. The problem was me and the way I could easily deceive myself into believing I had the power to change his feelings for me. It was human nature to expect such things; however, my brain must function with lucidity, or I’d end up with nothing, nothing at all.

“Is there anything else you need from me?” I asked, looking up to him, bright-eyed and expectant.

He shook his head. “For now, no. If there are any changes that require you to sign a document, rest-assured, I’ll personally take care of it.”

“Okay. Thank you, I suppose.” My finger toyed with the ends of the cushion. I felt at odds with myself because, each time I gazed at him, I couldn’t help wondering when he’d plan to stay the night again. Or the important details of his vanishing act, the aftermath of it, anyway. Those two questions were something I could not possibly say out loud without repercussions. Both posed the threat that he could very well walk out of here without saying another word, and I did not want that to happen since he had taken his jolly time to visit me this time.

“Did Father tell you the timeframe of when the divorce will be finalized?”

“He and his team are working on it. He hopes that the decree nisi will be made absolute by the courts in a matter of days as long as Ashton doesn’t oppose anything in the contract.”

“In a matter of days?” Bloody Hell. I hadn’t seen that coming. When he had mentioned expediting the process the last time he had been here, I’d thought he meant weeks stretching to a few months. But in a matter of days? I was rendered speechless. Did he plan to marry the next day since he wanted me to be his dirty little secret? Fuck. I hadn’t thought that I’d be upset about it, but somehow I was. All those inner talks I had held with myself flew out the window the moment I realized I would be saying my vows much too soon. Could I mentally prepare myself in less than a week? In a few days perhaps?

“When do you plan to marry?” I cautiously asked him while the profound distance between us felt palpable.

“I applied for a special marriage license a few days ago, which should arrive in a day or two. Once your divorce is approved, we could get married as soon as arranged.” He pulled his phone from his breast pocket, his face expressionless when he said, “If your divorce is granted within five days, we could marry the day after.” He sounded monotonous, as though we weren’t talking about marriage at all. It was like a rehearsed speech, with no feelings involved.

Pressing down the bubbling hysteria that was about to erupt, I shook my head, not agreeing with him. “If it’s granted within five days, we’ll marry on the third day after.” I was standing my ground because there were things that were important to me, and I needed to learn how to tamper those down before signing my life away to be his somewhat kept secret.

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