Chapter 19
LILA
He’d signed the papers. All of them. I couldn’t believe it—I was getting a divorce and listing my house for sale—all because of that stupid bastard and his dick. I was distracted and had wandered away from the realtor currently looking around my home, when she bounced up to me.
The woman had endless energy, and I suppose at twenty-something years old, I would’ve too.
The realtor smiled at me, her immaculate platinum-blonde curls dancing as she looked around my home with an air of enthusiasm I wished I had.
“This house will sell quickly. This area is highly sought after—especially by young families. Being so close to the elementary school really helps.”
I smiled, wishing I gave a shit. I just wanted the ‘For Sale’ sign up, so I could leave all of these bad memories behind.
“It’s beautifully decorated,” she continued, gazing around the room. “It’s neutral too, and people love that when they’re viewing. They can really see themselves in here, you know?”
Neutral. Perfect.
“Can you do all of the viewings?” I asked, surprising myself. I didn’t want to see happy couples looking around my home, with their cute kids and aspirations and dreams.
No thank you.
“Of course,” the realtor replied, picking up on my tone. “I’ll need a set of keys and any alarm codes.”
I reached down for the spare set I’d had cut when I’d changed the locks and handed them to her. “There’s no alarm.”
“Well, I’ll get back to the office and get this listed as soon as possible. I’ll be in touch.”
She left, her stiletto heels clicking on my floor and finally, the door closed behind her. I exhaled, my shoulders dropping.
I hadn’t expected this part to be so taxing. It was exhausting having a stranger in my home.
We’d loved this house when we’d bought it.
We’d planned to have children, but it just hadn’t happened for us.
A pang ached somewhere deep in my soul, the distant memory of wanting to be a mother so badly still haunting me.
I’d come to terms with it, as most women had to when it didn’t happen for them.
Victor had really wanted kids. I used to wonder whether the problem was with him or me, but we’d agreed to just let nature take its course and not pursue other avenues.
Thank god we didn’t have any; I couldn’t imagine going through this with a child in tow. Or worse still, children.
I’d probably kill him.
Oh, Victor, you stupid fucking idiot. Why did you do this to us?
A lump rose in my throat at the thought of him at his mother’s table when he’d signed the paperwork. But he did this—I didn’t make him fuck some tramp.
My skin prickled and my teeth ground together at the thought of him with her. What he’d said to her. Rage flowed through me so strongly my fingers twitched, and it was then that I spied my laptop.
Greece.
We’d often spoken about going there together, Victor and I, but we’d never done it. Victor said we already lived in a beautiful country, and with the Caribbean a short flight away, we’d gone there regularly.
I closed my eyes and remembered lying on a white sandy beach beside my gorgeous husband, his olive colouring deepening beneath the hot sun.
We’d gazed at each other, and he’d lifted my hand to his lips and kissed it, whispering how I was his world.
How he’d stared at me each night like he wanted to eat me, often devouring me instead of any meal we’d had planned.
And not once did he look at another woman. Not once.
So, what changed?
Me.
I knew it was because I’d gone off sex. It wasn’t just that though; I was tired and stressed. I had zero tolerance for Victor, or his libido. I barely spoke to him unless I had to, because he irritated me so fucking much.
My cheeks flushed.
Okay, so maybe we had become…distant. And maybe I did push him away, but I didn’t mean to. That past year was hard for me. My body had changed too: painful breasts, period pains when there wasn’t any period, feeling sick and bloated.
It wasn’t fair.
He’d cheated on me because we were struggling. Because we’d become distant. And I had to pay the price for our problems.
What about our fucking vows?
Greece.
The word kept popping up like a solution to all my problems, and maybe it was.
I grabbed my laptop and curled up on the sofa, tucking my legs beneath me.
My heart thudded in my chest as I began searching for Greek holidays, and when the little whitewashed buildings showed up on my screen, something shifted within me.
That was where I needed to be, lost in the olive groves of Greece, instead of sitting here in the hell of my reality.
Because why not? I had some time off work owed to me, and to be honest, I worked in a store. It wasn’t the end of the world if I took a week or two off.
Maybe three.
I bit my lip and drank in the vision of my possible future, and before I could second guess it, I’d booked a flight to Rhodes, a Greek Island, along with a cute little hotel in the centre of a small town. It had a layover of three hours in Athens, too.
My stomach fluttered when my credit card was approved, and my flight was confirmed.
I would fly in three days for three glorious weeks.
“Well, you’ve done it now,” I whispered to myself as my teeth sunk into my lower lip.
The thought of jetting away from all this bullshit was just… beautiful. I knew Vanessa would’ve come with me—hell, even my mom would have if I’d asked her. But this was something I wanted to do on my own. I’d spent my entire adult life being with someone—with Victor—and now I wanted to fly solo.
Literally.
I called work and told them I’d be taking some time off, and I had to take one week unpaid as I didn’t have that much time off. I didn’t care—I felt liberated. Soon I wouldn’t have a mortgage hanging over my head—maybe I’d make enough money to buy a new place! Who knew?
Suddenly, the dark clouds seemed to fade away, showing me a path of sunshine and possibilities.
And Greek food. And wine.
Maybe this was how it was meant to be.
I needed to pack.