My heart hammered in my chest as he dropped his bags to the floor, clearing his throat as he turned to look at me. He swallowed. “You look beautiful.”
I blinked.
Was this how he was going to play it?
He looked painfully thin, almost shockingly so. His clothes hung from his skinny frame; his eyes were circled with darkness and bloodshot.
Fucking hell. I’d never seen him looking so rough.
A pang of sadness vibrated in my chest, but then I remembered that he’d done this to himself.
The bastard.
“You look like shit.” I shut the front door and snatched up my phone. “The spare room needs making up. I’d appreciate it if you kept as far away from me as possible. Like a lodger would.”
Pain flashed across his eyes and he opened his mouth, like he was in shock.
Good. Welcome to my world.
“Lila…” he began, but I waved my hand.
“Victor. This is purely financial. If it were up to me, I’d never see you again.”
His gaze dropped to my belly, unspoken words filling the room between us.
Of course, I’dhaveto see this man regularly because I was having his child. But that was unfortunate—it wasn’t a choice I’d made. It was a choice I would've made months back—to have my husband's child.
But now?
He was dead to me.
“I see.” Victor raised his brows and coughed into his fist. “I’ll head out of your way.”
I lifted my chin and crossed my arms, waiting for him to finally leave the room, to give me access to the air he’d stolen the second he’d walked back in. Tears filled my eyes ,and I cursed myself.
I’d sworn I wouldn’t cry. But it was too much seeing him here again.
I busied myself with my phone for a few hours until I heard his footsteps on the stairs, and my entire body stiffened.
I heard a glass clink, and the faucet turning on.
Okay, he was making a drink. That was fine. Absolutely fine.
Then I heard him drinking it, the sound of his throat bobbing making my hackles rise. I tried to ignore it, but then he rinsed the glass, placing it on the side which annoyed me even further.
Then he coughed. Again.
“Are you sick?” I snapped, pinning him with my gaze.
Looking at him was a mistake. Helookedsick. He was pale, for starters, and he had a sheen of sweat on his forehead. I sat up.
“I’m fine,” he said, his voice raspy.
He wasn’t fine.
I eyed him. “I can’t risk getting sick.”
Victor nodded. “Yeah, I know. The baby.”
