Now?
It was nine in the evening.
Something was wrong.
“Are you alright? Do you need me to come to you?” I was already out of bed, tugging on my pants.
“No. Send the address please.”
Then the line went dead. I stopped, staring at the screen to see she’d ended the call.
“Fuck,” I whispered, sending her a text with my location, before realising Lila was cominghere. “Ah, shit.”
I tried to tidy up a little before the buzzer went off, but it was what it was. Lila probably didn’t give a shit where I was living—she’d think I deserved it, which I guessed I did.
I opened the door, my heart racing in my chest when I saw her standing there.
She was tanned—glowing, actually. Her hair was in loose curls around her shoulders, and she wore an off-shoulder sweater and leggings. I wanted to sink to my knees and fucking beg for her forgiveness; I loved her so much.
A lump formed in my throat as I backed away, waving her inside my awful place. My cheeks burned with embarrassment when she blinked, staring around her like she was afraid to move further inside. I closed the door behind her and studied her, unable to stop smiling.
“You look so beautiful,” I whispered, reaching for her hand.
She flinched, moving away before we touched, and it hurt like hell. This was the woman I had loved since the moment I’d met her, and the woman I would love until the day I died.
Knowing this and taking in the way she looked at me was fucking horrifying.
Like I was dead to her. Her eyes were cool and narrowed, no sign of the fear I thought I’d heard on the phone. I wanted to ask her if she’d fucked the man in Greece, if she was seeing him, if she missed me…
But I knew from looking at her that none of that was my business. I also knew she didn’t miss me. Not one fucking bit.
Why had I ever cheated on her? Why? She was, and always would be, the most beautiful woman in the world. She’d been my best friend. The woman I wanted to grow old with.
What thefuckhad I been thinking?
I’d thought this since the second Lila had left me, but now, it was worse. Somehow, it was louder, like the crack of a whip in the silence, or the first shot of a gun at the start of a race.
“Victor…” Lila began, unable to tear her eyes away from her surroundings. “I came here to tell you something.”
Had the house sold? Surely, she could’ve texted me that. Oh god, was she moving to England to be with that prick?
“So, I’m pregnant.”
Dizziness slammed into me, forcing me to grip the kitchen counter so I didn’t fall.
What? Why was she here, telling me this? How did she even know she was pregnant; she’d only met him four or five fucking weeks ago.
I’m going to find him and kill him.
“It’s yours.” Lila glared at me, like my thoughts had offended her.
It was like being hit by a truck. I gasped and shook my head; certain she was wrong. We hadn’t…
“But…”
“My mother’s birthday. Yes, even I struggled to remember.” Sarcasm dripped from her voice, but I remembered. How she’d laughed so much when we drunk that nice wine, how we’d made love like we’d always used to.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
