At the pinnacle of her career, orthopedic surgeon Ava King conquers the lucrative medical field of London.
A wild and intimate night with competitive Formula One driver James Ellis ends with Ava being stood up. The rejection leads her straight into...
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Waking up after another intense love making session, I feel oddly empty when I realize Ava isn't in the bed.
It's been a rough 12-hours and this was the only sleep I've had since waking up in Nice next to Ava like it was some kind of mirage.
After I messaged Sebastian, asking him to check up on her, I just stood at the departures at the airport in Nice: Flight A to Bahrain as planned? Or Flight B to London? And I was like, 'Fuck it. I'm going to London.'
I spoke to the team principal and let him know I'd be joining the rest of the team on the flight to Bahrain tonight. Was he happy? Not entirely but I don't care. There's no way I'm in the right frame of mind to operate a speeding machine at nearly 400km/h when I'm worried sick about Ava.
And I'm so glad I opted for London. Well not happy glad. Glad that I wasn't in the middle of some desert when my girl needed me to help deal with the aftermath of what that swine did.
When I arrived at her place, Sebastian was still wide awake, wrought with anger and worry. He told me Ava was passed out in the living room and I feared the worst: that he drugged her and had his way with her. Sebastian wasn't exactly sure as to what happened, he was just relieved Ava was safe and looked relatively calm. He didn't think it was that.
I jumped into bed where she lay peacefully at first, instinctively curling her body towards mine. Then I had to watch her moan and writhe in her sleep, reliving the trauma. All I could do was wait until the terrors settled. And wait 'till she awoke to deliver the verdict of what actually happened.
The bruises around her neck told a tale of its own, but still doesn't prepare me for the truth. I've never in my life felt a rage and helplessness to this extent. There's nothing I can do to help her, unless I was physically there to stop the bastard.
I have an actual list of things I want to do to Gabriel, apart from the obvious ending his life part. Chinese torture. Castration. Using his own scalpels to scalp him.
I need to lay off those Quentin Tarantino movies.
I feel terrible that I wasn't here to protect her. And even worse that I sent Sebastian to check up on her.
I shouldn't have sent some proxy on my behalf to check up on the woman I love.
Love? You damn bet it's love.
I've known it for a while but just been too chicken shit to admit it. It was probably why I was always in a tailspin, bang out of equilibrium every time we fought or every time I felt her slip away from me. If this is the sitting in a booth talking to a man of God variety of confessions, it's probably the reason why I ghosted her in the first place.
