Starting with finding out who this bitch was.
3
VICTOR
Iknew Enzo would come and see me before anyone else. My sister would be gunning for my blood, and Lila refused to answer any of my calls or texts. Other than them, I only had my mom, and she was too old to be dealing with my shit.
Seventy-six years too old to be exact.
Enzo stood across from me, looking entirely out of place with his clean, pressed clothes in this shitty motel room.
“What the fuck were you thinking?” Enzo demanded, crossing his bulky arms over his chest. His eyes bore into mine, and I shook my head.
Like he’d ever understand when I don’t even understand it.
“What can I say? I fucked up.” I muttered, knowing full well it was probably the worst thing I could say.
“‘Fucked up’?” Enzo scoffed. “Fucking up is forgetting to put gas in the car and having to walk to get some in a can. This? It’swaymore than fucked up.”
If only. I’d do anything to be walking to a gas station right now, that being my own problem.
“Vanessa is going to kill you.”
No news there.
“I guessed as much.”
Enzo glared at me. “Who the fuck is this woman you’ve been screwing?”
I stared at the rain-streaked windows that didn’t even have a curtain to hide away from the world. The neon vacancy sign looked crooked through the glass.
“Camilla.” Saying her name made me feel sick. “Cami.”
“I didn’t mean hername, dickhead. I mean who the fuckisshe?”
My heart ached in my chest as I remembered Lila on her knees earlier, her eyes swollen and glassy as she sobbed.
“I met her at a work night out,” I explained, unable to look at my best friend. “I had a bit too much to drink, and uh…”
Enzo stared at the ceiling, exhaling heavily. “Don’t tell me. You fucked her when you were hammered.”
I wished that was all it was. A drunken mistake might be easier to accept than what I'd done. Fucked her sober, texted her…
I groaned and held my head in my hands, knowing I was about to admit how much of a shit person I was.
“Not just then,” I said weakly, shame burning my face. “I don’t know what to say, Enzo. I’m a piece of shit.”
“Yeah.” Enzo nodded, his expression grim. “You are.”
Enzo had high morals—something we’d always had in common. Now I felt like shit on his shoe, but I still wanted his support in a twisted way. I knew I wouldn’t get it, but fuck, he was supposed to be my best friend.
“Gee, thanks for coming over to make me feel even worse,” I snapped at him, irritation desperate to leave my body in a direction that wasn’t mine.
Enzo raised a brow. “You expect me to feel sorry for you? You and Lila have been married for what, twenty years? And you fucksome woman behind her back? You’re too old for this shit!” His words cut deep, even though they weren’t necessarily sharp.
I closed my eyes and tried to ignore him. I knew I’d fucked up. I didn’t even have much of an excuse—Lila is beautiful, inside and out. But she didn’t want me anymore.
I stared down at my wedding band, which had caught the light from the motel lamp. A circle, representing eternity.
