Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
LILA
Oh gosh, what have I done?
Lila curled into herself under the scalding spray of the shower, her body trembling as silent sobs tore through her. The water lashed against her skin, but it couldn’t cleanse her, couldn’t scrub away the filth clinging to her soul. She didn’t want to face it— any of it. The past few hours felt like a fever dream, a reckless, booze-soaked haze of bad decisions and self-destruction.
She’d gotten obliterated in some rundown dive bar, thrown herself at a man— Stephanie’s husband —and somehow ended up in a stranger’s hotel room. And Natalie? She’d left with someone else, disappearing into the night without a second thought.
So why not Lila?
She had nothing left to lose. The bitter truth clawed at her insides, hollowing her out. She was unraveling, coming apart at the seams, and leaving wreckage in her wake like some natural disaster. No amount of alcohol, no fleeting touches, or meaningless encounters could fix her. If anything, they made her feel worse.
Cheap.
Disposable.
Broken .
The divorce should have been her rock bottom, but deep down, she knew she’d been sinking long before Kyle. He wasn’t the cause—just another symptom of her own tragic choices.
At first, he had been different. Charming. Thoughtful. The man she thought would love her forever. But forever had been a lie. The second their rushed marriage turned into reality, the mask had slipped. And the first time he raised his hand to her? The police let it slide. Nothing had happened, they said.
The second time, he ripped the phone from the wall, his rage twisting into something monstrous.
The third time.
The fourth.
The fifth.
She gagged, choking on bile as the memories crashed over her. Kyle had lost control that night, and she—she had lost everything. You don’t nearly kill the mother of your child without it changing something fundamental inside of you. She had watched a man unravel before her eyes, watched the demon inside of him take over, and she had paid the steep price.
Her baby had paid the price.
A sharp, animalistic sob tore from her throat. She clapped a hand over her mouth, suffocating it before it could echo in the tiny bathroom. Her ribs ached with the force of holding it all in.
She had been running ever since. Running from the past. From herself. From the truth that no one had ever stayed. No one had ever chosen her.
And now? She was stuck in a cycle, an endless, vicious loop of bad choices and empty nights, spiraling further and further down, with no one left to catch her.
She wrapped her arms around herself, rocking slightly as she slid down into the tub. The cold porcelain against her spine grounded her, but it didn’t stop the terror from creeping in, thick and suffocating. She didn’t even know the man in the other room. Didn’t know if she was safe, if he would wake up angry or violent or worse.
If she called the police, would they dismiss her again? If she made a sound, would he?—
No.
Lila squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself to stay small, to stay invisible. If she just stayed here, if she waited it out, maybe he’d leave. Maybe she could piece herself back together, crawl out of this mess, and start over.
But gosh, it felt impossible. Like standing at the base of Mount Rushmore, naked and barefoot, expected to scale the impossible.
Baby steps, Lila…
Get free. Get sober. Get a morning-after pill before she ruined another life along with her own.
And then?—
Then, she needed to get help.
Because if she didn’t, this black hole of destruction was going to swallow her whole.
“Leave me alone,” she uttered under the shower, ignoring the knock at the bathroom door as she pressed her hands over her ears, rocking back and forth, weeping silently.
God, if you are listening, I need help… please.
Two months later, Lila had started to believe—naively, perhaps—that she was finally crawling out of the wreckage of herself. She wasn’t whole, not by any means, but at least she was trying. At least she was keeping her head above water, finding ways to quiet the ache that clawed at her ribs every night when she was alone. It wasn’t much, but it was something.
Until now.
It was a special kind of agony to realize that the person sitting next to you, someone you called a friend, was slowly unraveling the fragile stitches holding you together. Natalie was not a lifeline; she was an anchor, one that would drag Lila down if she let her. Nashville had made that abundantly clear. But what could she say? She had already lost so much—her city, her marriage, Kyle. She couldn’t afford to lose another friend.
“So, are you coming with us to Chicago?” Lila asked, forcing lightness into her voice, though desperation clung to the edges of it like a fraying thread. If Stephanie came, at least Lila wouldn’t be alone with Natalie. At least she would have a reason to stay sober, to not spiral.
“Or bailing on us again? You missed out on so much fun last weekend,” Natalie tossed out there almost as a dare. That’s how she got Lila to say ‘yes’ – wasn’t it?
Stephanie hesitated, then smiled softly, resting a hand on her stomach. Lila’s gut twisted, a sharp, visceral pang of longing and loss that nearly stole her breath. She knew what that felt like—what it was to feel a life growing inside you, to be irrevocably changed by it. And now? Now, she had nothing but empty arms and a hollow chest where dreams used to live.
“Well, with the baby coming and so much to plan or do, I’ve decided to slow down everything. What I mean by that is I want to put my child and myself first – and going to Chicago doesn’t benefit or help the baby, you know?”
“No, I don’t know.” The bitterness in Lila’s voice startled even herself, but she couldn’t stop it. She needed Stephanie to come. She needed to believe she wasn’t completely alone in this. But Stephanie wasn’t her lifeline either, was she? Nobody was. And that realization burned.
“You could shop for baby clothes.”
“Don’t be evasive,” Natalie interjected, eyes narrowing. “What’s going on that you feel like you need to slow down?”
Stephanie inhaled deeply, glancing between them before she spoke. “I’m considering moving, so I might need to pack.”
The words slammed into Lila’s chest like a freight train.
“What?!” Both she and Natalie exclaimed in shock.
“This weekend was actually strangely beautiful in so many weird ways. Lance flew in, and we just spent so much time talking, being with each other, and…” Stephanie trailed off, searching for words. “I think I want to grab that sort of happiness and hang onto it. He wants to be involved with the baby – and I want him to be, too.”
“He can pay child support,” Lila snapped, her voice raw, sharp. This was it. This was the moment she shattered, the weight of everything pressing in on her with crushing force. If Stephanie left, she would have no one.
“Lila!”
“What? I’m sorry. I’m bitter because none of this is your fault or fair. I mean, you had a good time – it’s his fault for not wearing protection,” she hissed, barely recognizing the sound of her own voice, tight with anger and hurt. “You are doing him a favor by having the baby, and it shouldn’t turn your whole life around for him. What kind of sick, macho, pigheaded man?—”
“Whoa,” Stephanie cut in, reeling back as if Lila had physically struck her. “Lila, hang on a minute. While Lance mentioned it, he isn’t pushing me into anything. In fact, I haven’t even told him that I was actually going to move. We’re discussing things together and planning for our future, our baby’s future.”
Lila trembled, her breath coming in shallow bursts as she tried to hold herself together. But she was unraveling. She felt it, the seams of her composure splitting apart. Tears burned the back of her throat, thick and choking.
“I love you both so much, and you’ve always been there for me, but how can I tell the father of my child that he’s not welcome to be a part of the baby’s life… when I want him to be there?” Stephanie said softly, looking at her almost like she wanted her to understand.
“We can help you,” Natalie offered, oblivious to the storm raging inside Lila. But there was no ‘we.’
“I can’t.” Lila managed the words scraped out of her, broken and raw. Both of them turned to her in shock. “It’s too much, too hard on me, and…” Her voice collapsed under the weight of everything as the waiter arrived, his presence an unwelcome intrusion into her unraveling world. Stephanie’s hand closed over hers, grounding her, keeping her from splintering completely.
“I’m okay,” she forced out, though the words tasted like lies.
“Are you sure? Do you want to talk about it?”
“I probably should talk to somebody, but I’m not ready yet.”
I’m scared, Lila thought wildly in fear. I’m frightened to face my past or even hope for a future. I’m existing because it’s safer…
Stephanie squeezed her hand. “When you are, say the word, and I’m here for you.”
A month later, Lila was fighting an inner battle, trying not to let it show as she worked silently at her desk counting money and posting deposits. Her life consisted of waking up, worrying, working, then going home to an empty apartment. She couldn’t go out and hang out with Natalie anymore. Stephanie was going to be moving this weekend.
She was alone – and would be forever.
That singular thought kept echoing in her mind, choking back tears and fighting a silent battle within her. None of this was healthy. She wanted fresh air, sunshine, to breathe, to smile, to feel at peace in her soul and…
Her phone beeped.
Lila, do you have a minute?
What’s up, Steffi?
I need help moving and wanted to see if you and Natalie could come for a little bit – plus we can say goodbye.
First off, we aren’t saying BYE… ever. You are stuck with my hormonal text messages and random outbursts because that is what sisterly love is like.
Secondly, I’m on my way. Let me go tell the boss that my period cramps are too much, watch him freak out, and then I’ll be there in ten minutes.
Don’t get fired.
LOL – puh-lease. I dare him to fire me.
See ya soon!
I texted Natalie, but she didn’t answer. Is she with a customer?
GIRLLLL – no. She ditched me for a dude. Can you believe the nerve?
We’ve gotta find you one.
Uh, hard no.
People change, things change.
Again, hard pass. I probably need to talk to someone first – like serious therapy or something. Maybe I should try finding a few brain cells, God, and Alcoholics Anonymous so I can handle this train wreck of my life.
Want someone to talk to?
Who?
Maybe a pastor?
Lila blinked as she stared at her screen for a moment. It wasn’t exactly Alcoholics Anonymous, but alcohol wasn’t really her problem – it was being pressured by a friend who kept putting her in terrible environments. She didn’t crave the drink, didn’t really enjoy it. The part she desperately wanted was to feel normal and not feel isolated. Maybe talking to a pastor would help things?
Sure.
Hook me up with the number to a pastor – and I promise not to ruin the man. I’ll text him a few things, scare him half to death, and then he can chase me across the country with Holy water.
Har. Har. See you in ten?
Giving up so soon?
And yes – I’m on my way.