But I couldn’t. I couldn’t stop imagining the pain of what Lila had gone through. What she was still going through. I swallowed and forced myself to imagine Lila riding some guy, or him fucking her from behind. My hands balled into fists, and I gritted my teeth so hard they ached.
I couldn’t. I wasn’t as strong as her. The worst part was that I was finally starting to see something—something I really didn’t want to admit.
But it was obvious now.
I didn’t fucking deserve her.
Maybe he did.
46
LILA
The week passed quickly—too quickly in my opinion. Victor was around most evenings, acting like a kid who’d lost his favourite toy.
Well, good. Maybe Ishouldfuck Graham and send him a video.
Victor would probably die. He couldn’t handle that—me with another man. He had always loved the fact I had only ever been with him.
Ha.
As my body changed, so did my libido. I’d gone from hating the idea of sex to being permanently craving it. I’d been pleasuring myself, but Jesusfuck, what I wouldn’t do to have someone inside me, making me feel good.
My body craved Victor. It always did, but I told myself that’s because he was all I knew. However, I wasn’t about to hop into bed with just anyone, not when I was pregnant. God, if only I could detach myself from reality and let him fuck me. Just sex, just once. To scratch the itch that wouldn’t leave me alone.
But I wouldn’t givehimthe pleasure. The thought of him touching me after seeing him with her—no. It made me shudder.
So here I was, thinking about how unfortunate it was that I couldn’t fuck my ex-husband, while getting ready to see Graham. The weather had grown colder now, but I’d still opted for a dress that hugged my curves in the right places but was soft around my belly. It was a new piece I’d picked up especially for tonight—I didn’t want to go in maternity pants, which I’d been living in for weeks now.
I pulled on my coat and boots, admiring my reflection for once in a long time.
Pregnancy suited me, I thought, with my glowing cheeks and renewed energy since the placenta had finally formed. The nausea had subsided, thank god. I’d curled my dark hair at the ends and applied a bit of eye shadow and lashings of mascara. I swiped gloss onto my lips, screwing on the cap as the doorbell rang.
Yes. The doorbell.
I waited with bated breath as Victor opened the door, closing my eyes as I revelled in his disbelief.
“Can I help you?”
Oh, Victor. I’d already told him my date was picking me up—he didn’t need to play the oblivious card. I grabbed my purse, and with one final look in the mirror, I headed downstairs.
“Good evening. I’m here to pick up Lila.” Graham said smoothly, not an ounce of fear in his voice.
Victor wasn’t as intimidating as he used to be since the break-up, but he was still a decent-sized man. His shoulders tensed as I approached, his knuckles white on the door.
Graham wore a crisp white shirt and navy chinos, his Rolex glinting beneath the porch light. His eyes swept over me, and he gave me a crooked smile. A sleek black car waited at the end of the drive.
“Here she is.”
“Lila, please,” Victor whispered as I passed him. “Don’t.”
“You look dashing!” I said with a giggle, ignoring Victor who looked like he was going to be sick or kill someone—or both.
“You look beautiful, as always.” Graham lifted my hand to his lips; his gaze locked on mine.
Butterflies fluttered in my stomach, and it was nothing to do with the baby.
“Lila.” Victor was more urgent now.
