Chapter 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 was why. 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. She burnt 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.
Why did Lila have it?
She glanced at me before pushing the plate forward. “I thought I heard you. Your mother sends her love. And food.”
I stared at her. “You went to my mother’s?”
Lila didn’t look at me. “Yes. She sent this for you.” I took a seat at the kitchen counter, shovelling the food into my mouth like a man starved.
Good god, I missed home cooking. I ate instant noodles most nights, so this was decadent.
“You look better,” Lila said, tilting her head. “Must’ve needed sleep.”
I nodded, my mouth full of food.
Her finger curled a strand of hair around it as she watched me. “I’ll leave you to it.”
I swallowed my food as quickly as I could, wincing as the lump got stuck in my throat. “Lila.”
She stopped, turning to look at me with those beautiful eyes. I wanted to reach out and touch her, but all I could manage was, “Thanks for this.”
“Your mom made it, not me.” Then she walked upstairs, leaving me alone with nothing but spaghetti for company.
The next day we had the scan, and I sat in Lila’s car with a frosty silence between us. I hadn’t expected her to give me a ride—but she’d offered when I was ordering an Uber, and it made sense. We lived together, after all, but she didn’t particularly want to share this moment with me.
She’d rather do it alone, which said everything I needed to know.
I tried not to look at her, but my god, she was stunning. She smelled incredible too, and all I wanted to do was bury my head into her hair and inhale her. I missed her so much I could fall to my knees and beg for her forgiveness, but I didn’t deserve it.
I didn’t deserve her anymore, if I ever had.
We parked and headed inside, and all I saw were couples.
Happy couples with excitement shining in their eyes, whispering to each other while they waited for their names to be called. There wasn’t a single woman here alone, and I vowed I’d come with Lila to as many appointments as she’d allow me to. I didn’t want her to feel alone.
The dad-to-be across from me stroked his wife’s stomach, which was heavily swollen. She rested her head on his shoulder, her eyes closed. I couldn’t help but notice the wedding rings. I glanced at my hand, where I still wore mine. Lila’s was bare.
Well done, dude. You kept your vows, unlike me.
He didn’t so much as glance at Lila when she checked in at the desk, yet Lila still took my breath away. Anyone with a pulse would find her attractive, but this guy couldn’t take his eyes away from his wife.
My stomach plummeted. This could’ve been me.
What a fucking idiot I was, fucking Cami. Goddamn, I could punch myself until I knocked myself out. What the fuck had I even been thinking?
Lila stared down at her phone, swiping at the screen as she smiled.
Who, or what, was making her smile like that?
I couldn’t pretend she wouldn’t move on; I just prayed she didn’t do it while she was pregnant. Or when the baby was born. Or ever. Fuck it.
I closed my eyes and leaned back, trying to ignore the sound of the hospital around me. I could try to forget we were here, or imagine Lila gazing up at me with excited eyes, her hand in mine…
“Ms. Morrison?”
Lila rose to her feet, and my jaw dropped.
“You’re using your maiden name?” I whispered, feeling dizzy. She’d been Rossi for so long, I couldn’t imagine her being Lila Morrison anymore.
Lila glanced at me, an ice-cold look that told me she absolutely was using her maiden name and probably had been since she’d watched that godforsaken video.
“Of course, I am. I’m not married anymore.”
It was like she’d punched me in the stomach. The air left me, and she strode away, leaving me to follow her like a lost lamb. I bowed my head, but not before I saw the look on the guy's face across from me.
Like he’d seen a horror movie, and he wanted to turn it off and throw it away.
Yeah. You and me both, bud.
Somehow, I managed to force my shaking legs to follow Lila into the scan room, my heart leaping when I saw the little screen beside the bed.
The doctor checked Lila’s name—not Rossi anymore—and her date of birth. Then she waved at the pristine white bed.
“If you’d like to lie on the bed and pull your shirt up, then push your bottoms down below your tummy, we can begin.”
My heart raced as Lila did as she asked, ignoring me completely. I stared at her stomach like it was something magical, which I supposed it was.
“Are you the father?” the doctor asked me as she applied gel to Lila’s stomach.
“Yes,” I whispered, staring at Lila. Her jaw was tight, she refused to look at me, and I just wanted to hold her hand more than anything.
To beg her not to be ashamed that I was the father of her child, that even though I’d let her down and fucked up, I wouldn’t do it to our child.
No fucking way.
The doctor rolled a probe over Lila’s stomach, and I stopped breathing.
Because I heard it. The tiny thump, thump, thump of a heart. Emotion rose in my throat as Lila began to cry, her exhaustion shining through her tears.
“Baby,” I whispered, reaching for her hand and unable to stop myself.
She let me hold it for a brief second, then she pulled away. But for that brief second, I was home.
“Okay, so I’ve taken some measurements, and I can tell you that you’re around the twelve-week mark. That pesky morning nausea should start to ease now.”
The doctor pointed out the placenta, commenting that it looked healthy, then pointed at the screen with a smile.
“This is your baby. They look great.”
I could make out a tiny head, arms, legs, and even… a spine? They jerked a little on screen, and something inside me cracked.
Fuck. That’s my baby.
Tears flooded my eyes as I stared at the screen, unable to breathe.
Our baby.
I reached for Lila again, but she withdrew her hand, still staring at the screen.
“Would you like print-outs?” the doctor asked, and we both nodded.
Well, we agreed on something at least.