Chapter 23 Lila #2
But now? Now, he’s the one who should be scared.
He’s the one with hell waiting to rain down on him.
And I know it may not be the most mature approach in the world, but I can’t wait to see the look on his face when he realizes that the people he has relied on to keep him safe for so long are well and truly done with him.
“Thank you,” I tell the driver, who nods at me in the mirror when he drops me off.
I head into the apartment building and take the stairs two at a time, feeling oddly energized despite the fact it’s past midnight.
Like I could do every step twice over and still have energy to play with the twins all night.
I slip the key into the lock as quietly as I can and sneak into the apartment, determined not to wake anyone.
Sofia is asleep on the couch, the show we were going to watch together playing on low as she lies with her head back and her mouth open.
I grin, and grab a blanket from the edge of the seat and drape it over her.
I’ll wake her in the morning and tell her everything, but for now, she needs her rest.
I pick my way through to the bedroom, where the twins are both slumbering peacefully too. I don’t know how I got so lucky as to have a pair of four-month-olds who are so quiet, but I will be eternally thanking whichever new-mom God is looking down on me.
I gently stroke their heads, doing my best not to wake them, and a swell of emotion rises in me when I realize that they will never have to go through the hell that Thom put me through.
I know that all of this is far from over; there’s a whole case to go through, and no doubt I’ll be expected to testify against him in court for everything he did to me, but the wheels are in motion and I’m not in this alone anymore.
Perching on the edge of the bed, I pull out my phone and stare down at it for a moment.
There’s someone I need to talk to about this, but I don’t know if he’s ready to speak to me right now.
After all, Martin and I have found ourselves in the middle of more mess than most couples have to deal with in a lifetime.
The way he looked at me when he figured out that I was his son’s ex, it was like he was disgusted with himself, horrified that he had allowed things to go as far as they did.
But the fact that he’s done this…it has to mean that he’s trying to make it right, doesn’t it?
Only one way to find out.
I dial his number and lift the phone to my ear. I’m not even expecting him to answer, not really, given that it’s so late and he’s been avoiding any communication with me all this time, but to my surprise, a moment later, I hear his bleary tones down the line.
“Hello?”
I catch my breath. It’s the first time I’ve heard his voice in what feels like forever. I savor it, the sensation of it in my ears, knowing that it might be the most I get from him for a long time.
“Hey, Martin,” I greet him softly. “It’s—it’s me. It’s Lila.”
Silence at the other end of the line. For a second, I think he’s going to hang up on me, but he doesn’t.
I listen to his breathing, imagining him, for a moment, lying in bed beside me.
When he slept here, I woke up a few times in the night, and the sound of his slow, steady breath soothed me back to sleep.
“I just came back from the police station,” I continue, my voice hitching slightly. “And I—I just wanted to talk to you. About what you did.”
“Lila,” he murmurs at last. “I didn’t do this to try and win you back—”
“I know you didn’t,” I assure him. “But I want to talk to you about it, at least. Can we do that, Martin?”
It’s a simple request, but I still don’t know if it’s going to be enough to convince him. I hold my breath, waiting for a response.
“Now?”
“No, not now,” I reply, with a slight laugh. “I can tell you just woke up. And besides, I think this is the kind of conversation that’s better had in person, right?”
“I suppose it is.”
My toes curl against the carpet at the thought of seeing him once more.
He might be doing his best to keep his distance and close off the lines that run between us, but he can’t deny any more than I can that there’s something here, something profound, something that neither of us are able to ignore.
“See you tomorrow?” I suggest. “At my apartment? Maybe I could try making you some dinner.”
He chuckles, that low, warm sound flooding my brain with dopamine. I love his laugh. I wish I could run it on repeat through my mind.
“Or maybe I could bring us something,” he counters. “Around six?”
“That sounds perfect,” I reply. “I’ll see you then.”
Before he can change his mind or think better of this, I hang up the phone. I don’t know exactly what I’m going to say to him tomorrow, but I know one thing for sure—I’m ready to tell him everything, now that he’s shown me that he’s willing to make the hard choices to keep me safe.
I tuck myself up in bed, resting my head against the pillow and staring straight up. I should be exhausted, but instead I find my mind whirring with excitement—excitement at the thought of everything we might do tomorrow when he’s here in the apartment with me.