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And then I get really worried because her eyes widen and swing towards Jesse. ‘It was a shotgun wedding, wasn’t it? You married her because you had to!’

‘Thanks!’ I laugh, thinking how obscene it is for her to say such a thing. She’s not thinking straight, and now she’s saying stupid shit. Even with her limited time with us, she knows how we feel about each other.

‘Elizabeth,’ Jesse sits forward, all stern, his jaw ticking. I fear the worst. ‘You know better than that.’ He sounds so calm, but I can detect the irritation in his tone, and I can hardly blame him. He’s insulted, and so am I.

Mum huffs a little, but Dad interjects before she can retaliate. ‘So you didn’t know at the wedding?’

‘No,’ I answer quickly, taking my glass with both hands to prevent my natural reflex from failing me. Yes, we both knew damn well, even if I was denying it.

‘I see,’ Dad sighs.

‘I can’t believe it,’ Mum whines. ‘A pregnant bride suggests only one thing.’

‘Then don’t bloody tell anyone.’ I snap, feeling immensely pissed off with my mum and her reaction. I can’t blame her, it is shocking, more so than she’ll ever know, but to suggest I was rushed down the aisle because of it? That just makes me fuming mad, so I don’t know how Jesse must be feeling. His twitching, tense frame should be a clue, and when he takes my left hand and starts twirling my wedding ring, I know that my mum is about to be trampled.

He leans forward, and I close my eyes. ‘Elizabeth, I’m not an eighteen year old lad being forced to do the right thing after a quick f**k about with a girl.’ He’s not quite snarling at my mother, but as I open my eyes to gage exactly how much fierceness we’re dealing with, I immediately notice him fighting a curling lip. ‘I’m thirty eight years old. Ava is my wife, and I’m not having her worked up or upset, so you can accept it and give us your blessing, or you can carry on like this and I’ll take my girl home now.’ He’s still twirling my ring, and even though he has just firmly put my melodramatic mother in her place, and quite harshly, I could kiss him. And slap him, too. He doesn’t want me worked up? Coming from him, that’s bloody hilarious.

‘Now, let’s all just calm down a little, shall we?’ My dad says, all calm and softly, ever the mediator. Not only does he avoid affection, he’s not all that keen on confrontation, either. I notice he gives my mother a sideway glace in warning, something rare from my father and only delivered to his wife when he thinks it’s absolutely necessary. It is definitely necessary right now because if mum doesn’t rein it in, Jesse will trample all over her, and it won’t be delicately either. He has been unusually tolerant so far, but then again, mum has been pretty tolerant of my challenging man, too.

‘Ava,’ Dad smiles at me across the table, keeping his hand on his wife’s arm, a subtle message to shut the hell up. ‘How do you feel about this?’

‘Fine,’ I answer quickly, feeling Jesse squeeze my hand. I need to find a replacement for fine. ‘Perfect. Couldn’t be happier.’ I return my dad’s smile.

‘Well, then. They’re married, financially stable,’ He laughs. It’s quite funny to say that Jesse is financially stable. ‘And they’re bloody adults, Elizabeth. Get a grip. You’re going to be a granny.’

I’m feeling pretty mortified. After what has just transpired, you would think we were a pair of teenagers. I smile apologetically at Jesse, who shakes his head in complete exasperation.

‘I will not be a granny!’ Mum chokes. ‘I’m forty seven years old.’ She fluffs her hair. ‘I could be a Nana, though.’ She muses thoughtfully.

‘You can be whatever you like, Elizabeth.’ Jesse picks the menu back up, clearly fighting to leave it there. I can tell he’s dying to trample further.

‘And you should watch your language, Jesse Ward!’ She reaches over the table and flicks the top of his menu, but he doesn’t apologise. ‘Wait!’ she shrieks.

‘For what?’ Dad asks.

Mum’s eyes are passing between me and Jesse, back and forth, again and again before finally resting on Jesse, who has raised brows, waiting for her to advise us on what we’re waiting for. ‘You said babies, plural. You said our babies.’

‘Twins.’ Jesse smiles brightly, all irritation and trampling signs disappearing in a split second. He rubs my tummy lightly. ‘Two babies. Two grandchildren.’

‘Well, I’ll be damned.’ Dad laughs. ‘Now that really is very special. Congratulations!’ His chest swells a little in pride, making me smile fondly.

‘Twins?’ Mum jumps in. ‘Oh, Ava, darling! You are going to be exhausted. What are…’

‘No, she won’t.’ Jesse cuts her off completely before she can dig herself any further into his trampling pit. ‘She’s got me. End of.’

Mum sits back vigilantly and shuts her trap, and I melt on a little sigh. Yes, I have him.

‘And you have us, darling.’ Mum says quietly. ‘I’m so sorry. It’s just a bit of a shock.’ She leans over and puts her hand out. I take it. ‘You’ll always have us.’

I smile, but realise instantly that I won’t actually have them. They live miles away from London, and with Jesse’s family well out of the picture, there will be no calling the grandparents to pop over and relieve me for an hour. There will be no popping in to see my mum for a cup of tea and a chat so she can see her grandchildren. I feel Jesse’s hand tighten around mine, dragging me from my unexpected, unwelcome thoughts. I look at him, and he gazes straight into my eyes.

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