Chapter 3
VICTOR
Iknew Enzo would come and see me before anyone else. My sister would be gunning for my blood, and Lila refused to answer any of my calls or texts. Other than them, I only had my mom, and she was too old to be dealing with my shit.
Seventy-six years too old to be exact.
Enzo stood across from me, looking entirely out of place with his clean, pressed clothes in this shitty motel room.
“What the fuck were you thinking?” Enzo demanded, crossing his bulky arms over his chest. His eyes bore into mine, and I shook my head.
Like he’d ever understand when I don’t even understand it.
“What can I say? I fucked up.” I muttered, knowing full well it was probably the worst thing I could say.
“‘Fucked up’?” Enzo scoffed. “Fucking up is forgetting to put gas in the car and having to walk to get some in a can. This? It’s way more than fucked up.”
If only. I’d do anything to be walking to a gas station right now, that being my own problem.
“Vanessa is going to kill you.”
No news there.
“I guessed as much.”
Enzo glared at me. “Who the fuck is this woman you’ve been screwing?”
I stared at the rain-streaked windows that didn’t even have a curtain to hide away from the world. The neon vacancy sign looked crooked through the glass.
“Camilla.” Saying her name made me feel sick. “Cami.”
“I didn’t mean her name, dickhead. I mean who the fuck is she?”
My heart ached in my chest as I remembered Lila on her knees earlier, her eyes swollen and glassy as she sobbed.
“I met her at a work night out,” I explained, unable to look at my best friend. “I had a bit too much to drink, and uh…”
Enzo stared at the ceiling, exhaling heavily. “Don’t tell me. You fucked her when you were hammered.”
I wished that was all it was. A drunken mistake might be easier to accept than what I'd done. Fucked her sober, texted her…
I groaned and held my head in my hands, knowing I was about to admit how much of a shit person I was.
“Not just then,” I said weakly, shame burning my face. “I don’t know what to say, Enzo. I’m a piece of shit.”
“Yeah.” Enzo nodded, his expression grim. “You are.”
Enzo had high morals—something we’d always had in common. Now I felt like shit on his shoe, but I still wanted his support in a twisted way. I knew I wouldn’t get it, but fuck, he was supposed to be my best friend.
“Gee, thanks for coming over to make me feel even worse,” I snapped at him, irritation desperate to leave my body in a direction that wasn’t mine.
Enzo raised a brow. “You expect me to feel sorry for you? You and Lila have been married for what, twenty years? And you fuck some woman behind her back? You’re too old for this shit!” His words cut deep, even though they weren’t necessarily sharp.
I closed my eyes and tried to ignore him. I knew I’d fucked up. I didn’t even have much of an excuse—Lila is beautiful, inside and out. But she didn’t want me anymore.
I stared down at my wedding band, which had caught the light from the motel lamp. A circle, representing eternity.
I’d fucked that all the way up.
“So, what are you going to do?” Enzo asked finally, sinking into the seat across from me.
I stared around the bland motel room: the beige walls and my duffel bag dumped in the corner. I’d barely slept in the bed, but the sheets were still messy. Miniature bottles of alcohol lined the bedside table, along with a packet of cigarettes I’d long since given up. Lila would be so pissed—
Ouch.
A sharpness ripped through my chest, and I winced, realising Lila wouldn’t want fuck all to do with me, let alone care whether I died from lung cancer.
Great.
“I just need to see her,” I said, dragging a hand through my hair, which felt thinner today than usual.
“And say what, dude?” Enzo clasped his hands beneath his chin and stared at me.
He’s right. What can I say?
“I don’t know,” I admitted, clenching my jaw. “But I can’t just fucking lose her.”
Enzo’s phone beeped, and our eyes met briefly before he read it.
He looked up at me with something like pity in his eyes, then dropped his gaze.
He knows something.
“What?” I questioned, searching his face for an answer. “What now? Tell me.”
Enzo rubbed his shaved head and stared at me, his eyes softening as he broke the news.
“Vanessa told me to tell you that Lila wants a divorce.”
My stomach dropped, and a roar filled my ears. My head spun. Lila wouldn’t divorce me! We hadn’t even spoken about this; what the fuck?!
“Well, she’s not getting one,” I snarled, jumping to my feet. “She needs to talk to me first!”
Enzo said nothing.
“I fucked up!” Then, I remember Enzo’s earlier words. No. I hadn’t fucked up; I’d fucking destroyed my wife. My marriage.
The room spun. “Fuck!”
“Are you in love with this woman?” Enzo asked, disgust lacing his voice.
“Judgemental much, Enzo?” I threw back at him, bunching my fists together. “Huh? I thought you were supposed to be my best friend.”
Enzo narrowed his eyes on me. “Don’t be a prick. Answer the question.”
I loved Lila, and only her. I had never loved anyone else, and I certainly didn’t fucking love Cami. She was a distraction, giving me attention where I hadn’t had it at home. Not that I blamed Lila for this, but it was the truth.
“We had fun,” I muttered. “That’s it.”
“Wow. So, you didn’t even throw it all away for love,” Enzo gritted out.
What is his fucking problem?
“You’re pushing me, man.” I stared at him, my fists bunching beside me.
Enzo stepped closer. “Lila deserves better. That’s all I have to say to you.”
My anger left me at his words, and I realised he wasn’t being a shit best friend—he was calling it like it was. He was right, and it hurt like hell to admit, but I had to. I sank back onto the end of the bed and exhaled heavily.
What a fucking mess.
“You’re right. She does,” I admitted.
Enzo shook his head and turned to the door.
He was leaving. Because even my best friend couldn’t stand to look me in the eye. I scrambled for something, anything, to say in my defence, but I had nothing.
“Can you tell her I love her? Please?” I requested, my throat tightening around the words.
Enzo's shoulders tensed. “Yeah.” Then he left, leaving me staring at the fire evacuation map on the motel door.
I grabbed my phone and texted Lila again, unable to stop myself.
Victor: Please talk to me. Please don’t think about divorce. Please.
Then I saw a message from Cami, and I wanted to throw the phone against the wall.
Cami: Baby, I know you’re probably mad, but now we can be together. Come and see me. xoxo
I stared blankly at the screen.
Now we can be together?
When had I ever said I was leaving my wife? We’d fucked a handful of times—that was it. Nothing more. I’d never promised her more either; she’d just expected it.
FLASHBACK:
“I don’t want to talk to you about my wife, Cam.” I huffed, my arm stilling around her slender waist. My time here was to forget about my marriage, not sit and talk about it.
It’s not fucking therapy.
Cami stared at me; her big blue eyes focused on me as she tilted my chin toward her.
“You said it yourself—you’re not happy.”
I exhaled and refused to look at her. This had nothing to do with her.
“Marriages aren’t perfect.”
“You don’t have to stay in it.” Cami stroked my jaw, gazing at me. “You seem happy when you’re here.”
I said nothing.
“You wouldn’t be here with me if you were happy.”
I said nothing in my marriage’s defence because she was right. Lila and I used to be solid. We were always happy. So why was I here?
Lila didn’t want sex anymore. It had been so many months since she’d let me touch her like that.
Actually, there was one time before I met Cami, when we drank too much wine and she let me near her for once.
But the next day she avoided me like she’d had a bad one-night stand.
She was always in a foul mood, and nothing I did made a difference. It was like she hated me.
I sighed heavily.
“You’re not old, Victor. I know you think you are, but you’re not. You deserve to be adored. I love adoring you.”
She kissed me then, and all thoughts of my marriage slid from my mind. Especially when her lips moved south, her tongue stroking my stomach as she went. Then she had me in her mouth, almost swallowing me whole.
“Fuck.”
She gazed at me as she slid her lips up my shaft slowly.
“If you were my husband,” she said, her teeth biting into her lower lip. “I’d want to adore you like this every day.”
I closed my eyes as she took me back in her mouth, her fingers lacing with mine as I filled her mouth…
I pressed the heels of my hands to my eyes, like I was trying to erase the memory.
I missed my wife.