Oh, fuck, it was hard hearing him talking about the baby in here. In our home.
I ignored him the best I could until my stomach rumbled, demanding food. I put a cheese sandwich together, contemplating stabbing Victor with the knife.
Where are these murderous thoughts coming from? It was alarming.
I watched TV until I dozed off, almost jumping out of my skin when I heard his voice.
“I’m heading to work,” Victor said quietly, glancing at the door.
Work?
I knew he’d lost his job, but I’d assumed he’d get another—he’d been in the trade all his life. I frowned, rubbing my tired eyes. It was dark. What work could he do on a building site?
Then I saw his coat, one I’d not seen before, with the word ‘security’ printed on the front like a name badge.
Security?
I blinked in confusion. “You have a new job?”
He’d always worked in construction—surely security didn’t pay as well? Panic set in as I imagined him not being able to pay the bills but living here anyway.
Victor gave me a sad smile and shrugged. “Anotherjob.”
I stared at him.
“Another job?” I echoed, and he nodded.
“Yep. Okay, do you have a set of keys? Mine don’t work anymore.”
He was working two jobs? My mind was frantic, trying to work it out.
Why?
“Lila?” He looked concerned as I realised he was waiting for a response.
“Keys. Erm, I got you a set made. They’re hanging on the key rack.”
Victor flashed me a smile that used to send me insane with lust, but now I felt nothing but pain.
“Thanks. I won’t be back until around four or five.”
I gawked at him. “In the morning?”
I grabbed my phone. Of course, he meant the morning. It was five in the evening now.
“Yeah.” Victor walked to the door. “Have a good night.” He paused, staring at me a beat too long, then he left.
I stared at the closed door, hearing him lock it behind him. Ever security conscious, even now. He never left me alone in the house without locking the door.
I scrambled over the sofa and headed upstairs, hurrying to my bedroom window to watch him leave. He walked down the street with his head down, and my heart ached.
He had to walk because I’d burnt his truck, I remembered with a wince. But then he’d gotten drunk and wrecked anyway, so it wasn’tentirelymy fault.
But still, I watched him until he disappeared around the corner. I sighed and dragged my hands through my hair, deciding to have a bubble bath.
God, I had to share a bathroom with him.
I ignored his toothbrush as it watched me run the bath, his deodorant still filling the air. I opened a window.
