Page 75 of Second Chance Mates

I chuckle to myself and shuffle closer. “Where do you want me, Ava?”

“I want to lay my head on your chest,” she slurs through tired words.

“Okay,” I whisper and move until she curls into my side and rests her head on my chest. I wrap my arm around her back and stare up at the ceiling.

She giggles softly. “I can hear your heartbeat.”

“Yeah? Is it racing?”

“No, it’s calm,” she admits.

I hum softly. “Because you make me feel at peace, Ava.”

She stays silent for a few moments, and when I think she’s finally asleep, she says, “D-do you wish I was her?”

“Huh?”

Those eyes are half-closed as she speaks.

“Julia,” she whispers. “Do you wish I was her?”

Her expression is nearly emotionless. It’s a genuine question. I can’t help but pull my brows into a deep frown. “Why would you ask that?”

“Because she was your first mate. Because you love her.” She pauses. “Now, I’ve come into your life, and I wonder if you wish she was still alive and you never met me. That we could somehow swap.”

Her confession has my heartstrings tugging in the wrong way. Grief is a complicated emotion. Although since Ava has walked into my life, I’ve found her bond has helped me grow out of my depressive state. I wanted to be present throughout her recovery. I wanted nothing more than to be a good mate.

“I am her replacement,” she whispers sadly.

“No.” I shake my head. “You’re not. I don’t wish you were Julia. You came into my life for a reason. I don’t expect you to understand, but I’m trying, I’m really trying. None of this has been easy for me, but I’ve loved spending time with you, getting to know you, and letting our bond grow authentically.”

Her eyes quickly look down to my lips and then back into my eyes. “How long were you together again?”

“Two years.”

“You must really miss her.”

Of course, I miss her. I will always love her, but that doesn’t mean my limit for love stops there. The word has complex conventions, and I’ve been trying to figure out my brain for the last few months while Ava adjusts to this new world.

“I do miss her,” I admit. “But my heart didn’t halve when I lost her. It doubled when I met you.”

A slight smile plasters across her exhausted face. Her eyes close once more, and she rests it back on my chest. I release a soft sigh. I wish when she wakes up, she doesn’t regret this conversation or choosing to be this close to me. If she even remembers it at all.

When I wake up, I’m in my own bed. I had the willpower and all my morals to leave when she fell asleep. Despite it being difficult, I knew it was the right thing to do.

An unsettling feeling in my stomach has me shooting up in my bed. I groan when a sharp pain races to my throat. I clutch the skin and realise nothing is happening to my body. It’s Ava’s body.

I leap out of bed and rush down the hall to find Ava’s door ajar. The sound of retching has me barging into the bathroom to find her on her knees next to the toilet, groaning before throwing up last night's cocktails, I presume. The fluorescent orange colour makes me slightly nauseous.

My knees hit the floor beside her, and I gather her hair into my hand and rub her back in soothing motions. “Hey,” I say softly. “It’s okay. Get it up. You’ll feel so much better afterwards.”

She throws up a few more times before groaning again, and then falls back onto her ass and wipes her mouth with the corner of her hand. Her hair is a mess and the makeup she didn’t take off last night is smeared across every inch of her face.

I lean up to flush the toilet and grab the half-drunk water from last night. “Here, drink some. Hydrate yourself.”

She sighs uncomfortably before taking a sip and spitting it out into the toilet to wash out her mouth, then she finally takes a few gulps. “Thanks,” she whimpers.

“How are you feeling?”

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