Was she saying he’d cheated on her?
I couldn’t ask her that. I couldn’t. Emotion clawed at my throat as I took her hand.
“I’m sorry,” I said because that was all I could say.
She nodded, and tears slipped down her cheeks. “Tell Victor I love him.”
“I will.” My eyes blurred with tears as I took the carrier bag of food from her. “Thank you for dinner.”
“Anytime. Keep eating, you’re too skinny.” She said the last bit as she scrubbed at her cheeks with the heel of her hand.
I had to look away; to pretend I hadn’t seen that. It hurt too much.
“Love you,” she called just before I closed the door, and I blew her a kiss back.
Reason three million and one that I wanted to kill Victor, because an affair didn’t just destroy the marriage. It destroyed everyone around it too.
41
VICTOR
Iwoke up feeling all warm and secure, like a kid that’s been tucked in by his parents. My entire body ached, my throat felt like I’d swallowed knives, and my head was pounding.
But I was warm.
Where was Lila? I reached for her, but she wasn’t there. I opened my eyes and frowned upon seeing the spare room, reality hitting me harder than a baseball player hitting a home run.
I twisted onto my back and stared at the ceiling, wondering why I was still in my clothes. I must’ve passed out when I got in—I was so fucking cold and tired, not to mention ill. I could really do without feeling like shit physically, because I couldn’t afford to miss either of my jobs.
I yawned and sat up, stopping when I saw the deep emerald blanket draped over me.
I hadn’t put that there—but I knew who had.
Lila.
It was her blanket; one she’d had for years. It was usually stowed away in the bottom of her wardrobe, brought out for cold nights.
But she’d gotten it for me.
The question waswhy. She hated my guts, why would she cover me with a blanket? Why was she even in this room?
I pushed it back, folding it gently before lifting it into my arms. I inhaled it, desperate for a trace of her scent, but it was just the usual laundry powder I could smell. I’d put it back in the wardrobe and we could just pretend nothing happened. I stopped at the sight of my security coat hanging on the door—there was no chance I’d done that.
Did Lila hang up my coat?
I shook my head, baffled. Sheburnt my truck.I wouldn’t be surprised if she didn’t burn down the house with me in it.
My muscles ached, and my throat screamed as I moved. I didn’t have time for this shit. I walked down the hallway, towards the bedroom I’d once shared with my wife, my heart aching at the familiar scent of her perfume. I avoided looking at the bed, because fuck, I just couldn’t.
I put the blanket at the bottom of the wardrobe, closing the doors shut behind me.
God it’s hard being in here.
Back in the hallway, I sniffed the air, the distinct smell of my mother’s cooking filling it. Garlic, tomatoes, and…home. My stomach growled but my mind whirred as I walked downstairs, half expecting to see my mother at the stove.
Instead, I saw Lila, plating up some spaghetti and meatballs. Beside the plate was a slab of garlic bread, and my mouth watered.
I hadn’t had food like this since dinner with my mother. I recognised the Tupperware too—wait, this was my mother’s food.
