Divinely Living (Surviving Series) (32 page)

I rubbed my fingertip across the words then enveloped the ring in my palm. “I can’t take this. It belongs to you.”

Mason shook his head vehemently and held my fist tightly. “I bought that for Gina the day I went to confront your grandfather. It was meant as a grand gesture, a way of showing James I was serious about his daughter and my unborn child. I emptied my bank account and saw it the moment I walked into the jewellery shop. It never made it out of my pocket that day and the nurses gave it to me when I was eventually coherent enough in the hospital to understand. I’ve kept it for twenty two years in the hope that someday I might get lucky enough to see it on my daughters’ finger. Thankfully, that day has finally come.”

“I’ll cherish it always.” Embracing my father for the last time, I held on a little longer than before. It wouldn’t be long before I saw him again; I would make sure of it. But it still hurt like a bitch, to know, as my affection for Mason was growing at an alarmingly quick rate; the distance between us physically could affect that growth profoundly. I vowed to myself to do whatever it took to ensure that simply didn’t happen.

“And I will cherish the wearer always,” he muttered through a torrent of tears. And there we both stood, shedding mutual tears of remorse and sadness, happiness and contentment, for what seemed like forever. Until the tears ran dry, our arms ached from holding on so tightly and I really, really, needed to make my flight.

As a child, there was one time of the year that was able to penetrate even my dark heart and that was Christmas. It was never a particularly joyful time for me, or one I ever associated with family times, basically because I didn’t have a family. I remember eating Christmas dinner alone, hearing nothing but my mother’s terrified screams and the thud of Alex’s fists. After Gina’s passing, Alex often spent Christmas abroad and was rarely at home anytime throughout the festive season. The presents I received were always expensive but tasteless, unwanted and left unwrapped. The house would be decorated from ground floor to roof but the antique glass baubles, ten foot tree and ornate twinkling lights only added to his image. Alex the family man, Alex the husband and father, what nobody knew was that Alex Matthews was in fact nothing more than a sadistic monster who destroyed my mother and almost destroyed me too.

But the one thing I clearly remember throughout those desolate, lonely times was the fleeting slither of hope I had every Christmas Eve. When climbing into bed on the night when all children’s dreams come true, I wished every single year to wake on Christmas morning to a new life. I would have given anything for Santa Claus to gift me a life void of Alex, where Gina was the loving mother I craved her to be, and where I could sleep for one full night without waking to raised voices or hearing Alex drunk and returning home. That wish never came true and over time, my belief began to disappear. Yet I still wished, and more importantly, for a miniscule moment in time, I still felt hope. As an emotionally detached, shut down child to feel anything was a miracle in itself, no matter how quickly that feeling passed. And on Christmas Eve that’s what I did. I felt emotion. And that’s exactly the reason why for many years it was the only time I had memories of. Mostly bad memories but one good one, the only good memory of my childhood I possessed. That’s why I chose Christmas Day to be the day. The day my life
would
change this year, the day my hope would prove fruitful and all of my dreams would most definitely come true. Christmas Day was my Wedding Day.

Standing before the full length mirror in my Kensington apartment, I gazed at the vision in white reflected back at me. My long, auburn hair was loose and straight and hung to my lower back. Excitement flushed my pink cheeks and happiness shone in my emerald green eyes. The floor length, antique lace gown clung to my curves and accentuated my swollen stomach. Small diamond drop ear-rings and a thin diamond choker were the only jewellery I wore. My make up was light as always, my shoes were white satin flats and a white fur shawl lay across my bare shoulders. I stood staring; searching for the similarities I always found when I looked at myself. I never failed to see Gina. We were so strikingly similar I could never help comparing myself to her. The colour of our hair, of our eyes, our high cheek bones, slender figures and ample breasts. But there was only one face staring straight at me. For once the comparisons remained hidden. The only green eyes I saw were mine. Ava was the only face I saw. It was a face luminous with pure happiness and a body that was changing and blooming during pregnancy. This was my day and although I believed in my heart Gina would be with me in spirit, the woman about to walk down the aisle was most definitely me.

After leaving Chicago and returning to London, the days had passed in a blur. My friendship with Charlotte was truly repaired, so was her relationship with a certain French art dealer and I felt a definite thaw in her dislike of Jonah. She screamed with joy when I informed her of the baby, frowned slightly but gave me her blessing when she heard of the wedding, and cried for hours after listening to the unbelievable tale of meeting Mason. And I forgot what we argued about in the first place and realised how much I had actually missed my vivacious, larger than life best friend. But I could also sense a change in her and Charlotte sensed the very same change in me. Everything was so different and nothing was the same. Embracing the changes meant instigating them and Charlotte was the first one to have the guts to actually do so. She moved out of the apartment just a week after we got back. I made it clear she had a home here for life if needed, but Charlotte being the free spirit she was, decided it was time for a change. She wanted a taste of independence so began renting a small but practical townhouse only a fifteen minute drive away. The day she moved out was an emotional one. She cried, I cried and then we both cried some more before she eventually left. It was the end of an era, the end of the Charlotte and Ava years and more importantly the start of new beginnings for us both. We still spoke every day by phone and took it in turns to visit each other at home and though there was distance between us physically, emotionally we had never been closer.    

A soft knock rasped on my bedroom door before it opened slowly. A sleek, black haired bob peeked around the door and wide blue eyes smiled with approval as our gazes caught in the mirror.

“Oh, babe, you look stunning,” squealed Scarlett as she strode further into the bedroom. Her fitted red dress, matching jacket and killer black heels captured the festive spirit I was looking for and I smiled as she stood beside me and gave my ever growing stomach a tender rub. “You look so pregnant Ava but so damn beautiful, because you’re so pregnant.”

“Is she decent?” Yelled a husky, baritone voice from the hallway.

“She’s more than decent,” Scarlett yelled back. “Get your hot backside in here and take a look.”

A suited Cameron stepped sheepishly into the bedroom while running a hand through his dark hair. “I shouldn’t be here, Scar, isn’t it bad luck to see the bride before the wedding?”

Scarlett rested her hands on her hips. “It’s only bad luck if you happen to be the groom. So come and give her the present we brought.”

Cameron’s eyes filled with approval and his lips broke into a warm smile as his eyes met mine. “Wow, gorgeous, you look amazing.” He kissed my cheek. “Jacobson is one hell of a lucky man.”

I grinned back and squeezed his hand. After much persuasion on my part, Jonah finally called an uneasy truce with Cameron, at least to a point of civility. Cam was important to me, Jonah realised that, and even though they would never be the best of friends, they could at least spend time in each other’s company without coming to blows. I shot a quick glance at Scarlett who watched our joined hands intently. She and Cameron had been spending more time together recently after forging a friendship while I was in Chicago. The girl was smitten, that fact was blaringly obvious and as Cameron’s eyes met hers with a wink, I strongly suspected her feelings were beginning to be reciprocated. With a nod in my direction, Scarlett gestured to Cameron to hand me the small box he held in his hand. Taking it from him, I flipped it open and gazed down at the thin but beautiful diamond bracelet inside.

One side effect of pregnancy was the emotional wreck it had turned me into. Today was no different. Tears welled in my made up eyes as I removed the bracelet and ran my fingertips across the glittering stones.

“It’s your something old,” Scarlett smiled. “It belonged to my grandmother and after we bought the ear-rings and necklace you’re wearing, I thought they could be your something new and the bracelet would look perfect as your something old.”

I tugged her into a hug and gripped her as tight to me as my stomach would allow. “Thank you, it’s totally perfect.”

“Cameron had it cleaned and polished. When I said it was old, I meant it,” she giggled while hugging me in return.

After showering Cameron with the same affection, he placed the bracelet on my wrist and closed the small clasp.

“It looks amazing,” enthused a happy Scarlett as she clapped her hands and beamed broadly. “And totally keeps with tradition.”

The slam of the front door and hurried footsteps down the hallway grabbed all of our attentions as our collective heads flew to the door. A flustered Charlotte burst into the bedroom, her hair piled high on her head and the strapless red dress she wore, mirroring Scarlett’s and fully embracing the weddings Christmas theme. Behind her, the large, well maintained body of my father stood proud and tall, in a three piece black suit, white dress shirt and blood red tie. His black hair was perfectly groomed to the side and his stunning brown eyes brimmed with pride as he strode passed my other three visitors without hesitation and came straight to me.

“There’s my baby girl,” he said softly. Taking my hand in his, he raised it to his lips and kissed the back. “You’re a divine bride, Ava and I’m one hell of a proud father.”

His praise only heightened the tears in my eyes and they began to fall hot and wet on my cheeks. Having my dad at my wedding was a dream. Upon returning to the UK, our father/daughter relationship had grown and strengthened.
We communicated every day; either on the phone, or by email, and, after agreeing to let Jonah introduce me to the world of Skype, we now spoke face to face also. He’d flown here for two short visits and I intended to do the same once baby Jacobson decided to put in an appearance. There was no subject taboo or conversation too uncomfortable for either of us to have which is the way it should be between a father and his child. Apart from Jonah, Mason was becoming the most important man in my life and I felt truly blessed to have found him every damn day.

“Hey, no tears,” he soothed. “Today is a happy day.”

“I’m crying because I’m happy,” I blubbered, the tears now thick and fast and sobs starting to form in my chest.

“Pregnancy is turning you into a total girl,” chuckled Charlotte as she placed her arm across my shoulder and squeezed.

“God, it is” I moaned while swiping tears from below my eyes. “This baby is making me a wreck.”

“Well, I have something for you,” she said while also wiping wetness from the corner of her eyes. “Here.” She placed a delicate blue lace handkerchief in my hand and smiled. “This is your something borrowed and something blue. This handkerchief has taken part in all weddings on my mothers’ side for generations. It’s sort of a good luck charm within our family. And as you’re a part of our family, I’m passing that luck on to you, not that I think you’re going to need it. That man is well and truly smitten. I just hope he realises how lucky he is to have you.”

“I’m the lucky one,” I stuttered through the tears. “I have you all too. I truly feel like the luckiest woman living right now.”

I gazed around the bedroom with glazed eyes and absorbed the love. Every one of them looked at me with such warmth and profound adoration and rather than run from it, I embraced it. That’s how far I had come in such a short time. I was surrounded by people I loved and cared for deeply and admitting I did felt right. I needed them in my life, required them to live and flourish and would never forget it.

Glancing at his wristwatch, Mason’s eyes found mine with a firm nod and a wink. “Right people,” he said with a loud clap of his hands. “It’s time to get the bride to her groom before Jonah calls me for the tenth time this morning and threatens to kick my ass if she’s not there on time.”

I laughed and took one last look in the mirror. Splaying my fingers across my definite stomach I patted it lightly. The baby was due in a few months time. We decided to leave the sex unknown until the birth. I didn’t care whether the baby was a boy or girl as long as he or she was healthy. Jonah shared my sentiments although he still referred to the baby as junior whenever we attended an ultrasound scan or midwife appointment. Whatever the gender, our child was already the centre of our world. I was prepared to do whatever it took to ensure my child lived a life the complete opposite of mine. A life filled with wonderful people, unconditional love and emotional nurturing. Everything my life had been without. The moment we touched down on English soil, Jonah put his home on the market and returned only to collect his belongings. He moved in with me the very same day. There was no way in hell he was spending one night away from me, or his unborn child and in all honesty, I couldn’t bear to be apart from him for that long either. Two weeks later, he accepted a position with one of London’s largest solicitor firms, a position he previously turned down but felt he was obliged to take once he knew he would have a wife and child to support. We didn’t need the money, my inheritances alone would ensure we were financially stable for the rest of our lives and our child’s life, but Jonah was a proud man who refused to live off of his wife and was determined to provide us with everything we needed by himself. All of Alex’s estate had either been sold or was pending sale. Dad was steering A.M Enterprises down a new and more dynamic path and was building himself an impressive reputation in return. He sought advice from Jonah regarding all legal matters, which in turn saw their relationship grow into a firm friendship built on mutual respect. All in all, life was beyond anything I could have ever imagined it being only seven months ago. I had a full life, a happy life and today, my wedding day, was the next step to completing the life I never truly knew I wanted until I had it.