Chapter 11
LILA
Victor's mom, Bianci, buzzed around me while I continued to down wine like it was running out.
“The audacity!” Vanessa cried, yanking another bottle of wine from my fridge and handing it to me.
I took it duly and slurped away, feeling numb.
“Not leaving until you talk to him? Who the fuck does he think he is?” Vanessa was on a roll, but all I could think of was that fucking video.
I’d watched it on repeat to keep my tears at bay and my anger at the forefront of my mind. It made it easier to cope with, watching him rail some bitch who absolutely had it coming to her.
I hadn’t forgotten her. Not at all. I would deal with her soon, but first, I had to get stronger. Wine probably wasn’t wise, as twice tonight tears had pricked my eyelids at the thought of my husband kissing me on the forehead before he went to work.
Damn that man for ruining everything.
“Disgraceful.” Bianci sat across from me, tutting. She was a strong woman, and I tried to steal some of her strength as she fixed me with a look. “He’s my son, and I love him, but I’m so angry and disappointed right now. I’m so sorry, Lila.”
She shook her head and stared at the floor with the same brown eyes my husband had. I shivered and looked away, happy to have their backup and support, but also wanting to be alone.
“Lots of couples don’t have sex. It’s normal,” Bianci said, waving her hand.
“Mom!” Vanessa hissed, darting a look at me pointedly.
I frowned and looked at Bianci.
“Did he say that? That we don’t have sex?”
There was a pause, and Vanessa glared at her mom before turning to me, her face softening.
“Men that cheat always have excuses.”
“Did he say that?” I asked again, gripping the wine glass between my fingers.
But I already knew he had, because it was true. My cheeks flooded with heat, and I couldn't determine whether it was from shame or embarrassment.
“He said you’d not been intimate, yes.” Vanessa hesitated, and I knew there was more.
I braced myself, took another slug of wine, and asked, “What else did he say?”
Vanessa looked pained, her eyes shining with tears. “Oh, darling. You don’t need to know any of this right now.”
“Vanessa.” My words were sharp and stern. Most unlike me. “Tell me.”
Vanessa nodded and sat beside me, taking my free hand in her warm and soft ones.
I lifted my gaze.
“He said he tried talking to you, but you told him to deal with it.”
Blood rushed through my ears, drowning out the rest of her words.
I remembered a conversation one night after dinner. We’d been out, and things had felt…strange between us. We’d had nothing to say, and we’d picked at our food, neither wanting to address the elephant in the room.
But when we got home, Victor had.
He’d asked me if I found him attractive anymore. I’d laughed and shaken my head. What was this, I’d asked him, a midlife crisis? Why would he question something like that?
“Because we never fuck, Lila.”
I’d scoffed and told him to fuck off, but something needled deep within me.
I didn’t feel like sex, that was all. It wasn’t anything to do with him—he was, and always had been, my perfection. Any red-hot-blooded female would salivate over my husband.
Clearly.
I snapped back to the present, blinking hot tears.
“I’m sorry,” Vanessa murmured, stroking my hand.
I pulled my hand back and shook my head, furiously wiping away the tears.
“He was right.” I cleared my throat as Bianci watched me, her eyes shining. “I didn’t want sex. I didn’t want him to touch me.”
Bianci knew. “That happens to us women.”
Vanessa frowned. “The menopause?”
“Perimenopause,” I said softly. I’d suspected it for a while, had researched it loosely. I’d dismissed it and refused to acknowledge it. The hot flashes and night sweats made me feel disgusting. The mood swings were vile.
“Fuck. I should’ve seen a doctor.”
“This isn’t your fault,” Bianci said, before Vanessa could speak. “Our vows say in sickness and health, Lila. Your husband is supposed to support you.”
“I need a minute,” I blurted, my throat thickening. I pushed through the patio doors, closing them softly behind me.
The damp air stung my hot, tear-stained cheeks, and I squeezed my eyes shut, letting the rain soothe me.
Was this my fault? Did I do this to us?
Even though he’d committed adultery, had I pushed him away?
He tried to talk to me—so many times. But I felt like I couldn’t stand him sometimes, like his very presence irritated the fuck out of me. Then other times I’d miss him so much it hurt, and I’d just curl into his arms and cry.
“See a doctor, baby, please,” he’d plead with me, and I’d agree but never make the appointment.
I knew my hormones were to blame, but I just wanted to ride through it.
I didn’t know he’d have an affair because of it.
I sucked in a deep breath, staring up at the night sky. Victor had told me once, that no matter where we were, or what happened between us, we’d always be able to stare at the night sky at the same time and be connected.
I stared at it now, wondering if he was looking at it too.
Was she worth it? I hope so, I asked him silently, unable to breathe as fresh sobs tore through me.
Did he love her?
God, I can’t fucking bear that thought.
Him loving anyone else was worse than him fucking them.
But he hadn’t left me alone so far, constantly calling and texting, telling me how much he loved me.
If we were over, why hadn’t he gone to her? He was fighting for me, but I was done.
Even though I loved him so much it hurt, he had to feel the pain I’d felt. That I felt every fucking time I watched that video.
He had to pay.
And so did that bitch.