Chapter 35
VICTOR
Everything looked different at night, but at three in the morning, when it was freezing and deserted, it also looked eerie.
I’d worked night shifts years ago, but that was in a hospital, where you never could tell night from day. This was a completely different ballgame—outdoors on your own? Not for the weak.
The wind blew and metal clanged in the distance, putting me on high alert. I’d already swept through the whole site countless times, but I didn’t want to fuck up on my first night on the job.
I’d been lucky to get a quick start—the boss took one look at me and asked if I felt strong enough to tackle an intruder should I need to.
Any excuse, pal.
He probably saw a broken man; bearded and skinny with black circles around his eyes.
But the thought of Lila with that British prick filled my mind and I nodded. He lifted his brows at my expression, but I got the job.
So here I was.
Exhaustion seeped into my bones as I walked the perimeter again, the wind whipping around me, knowing there wasn’t a soul in sight. I knew this because it was as silent as the grave; I’d have heard a pin drop.
But I had to do it, part of the job and all.
It was just me and the blinding floodlights that hung from the unfinished building. I checked the same padlocks I’d checked probably three hundred times before, and sighed.
I was so fucking tired. My eyes felt like they had sandbags inside my lower lids, stretching the skin down my aching cheeks. The cold stung too, which didn’t help. Even with my thick coat on, it felt like shards of glass pinching my skin when the sharp wind blew.
Fucking marvellous, only another three hours to go until the day shift guy turned up. After a deep restful sleep probably, beside his wife, no doubt.
My thoughts were twisted and bitter, but working all day, then all night, to pay for two places to live, was hard.
No, it was beyond hard.
But Lila needed that house, especially now. Truth be told, I didn’t want her to move out of it at all—we’d both always loved our home. Especially now she was pregnant, that place was ideal to bring up a kid. We’d said as much when we’d bought it, it just had never happened for us.
I’d always wanted kids with Lila, and I couldn’t believe that it was happening in this bag of bullshit situation.
I stared at the dirt still awaiting to be pressed firmly beneath fresh cement, wondering if anyone would notice if I fell down and slept.
But they would—that’s why they had cameras recording from all angles. Well, not just to catch me falling asleep on the job, but to record any trespassers.
My eyes moved to the building, which would eventually be filled with luxurious apartments when it was complete. I had to go inside and check the rooms sporadically, not that anyone had come in on my watch.
But some people would sleep anywhere, depending how desperate they were.
At this point I’d probably make a fucking pact with them, anything to sleep.
My phone battery had gotten so low I couldn’t even sit and scroll endlessly. I decided to turn it on—I’d been here for hours already and had turned it off way before this shift started.
The screen lit up, the battery flashing at me like I had access to a charger.
“I know,” I muttered. “I’ll charge you when I get back.”
Great, I’m talking to inanimate objects.
It was crazy what I was doing. Working until 4pm at my day job, then starting here at 9pm. By the time I got back to my apartment, had a shower and some food, it left me an hour or two to sleep.
But needs must, right?
That’s what dads do. They sacrifice everything for their kids.
I still couldn’t believe I was going to be a dad. It was like the universe had taken pity on me and given me a piece of Lila to love forever.
The aching in my heart made me clutch my chest, punching it until it went away. It never did, but it got easier.
My phone alerted me to a text, and my heart leaped when I saw it was from Lila.
“Please stay on,” I begged my phone, no longer caring that I was talking to it, eagerly trying to open the message.
Lila: I don’t think we can afford to live separately right now. Can we talk?
I stared at the text message until my phone cut out, dying indefinitely. Raindrops had fallen on the screen, warping her words. But still, I didn’t move, my fingers still curled around the phone, gripping it.
Did I read that right?
I couldn’t even double check it because—fuck—the battery.
I released a breath, a smile tugging at my lips despite the cold.
Talk? Yes.
We could fucking talk alright—because if I’d understood her message, it might mean I could move back home.
With Lila.
And I wouldn’t have to keep working here.
My body sang with relief at the slightest hint of eight hours of sleep, but I couldn’t assume that’s what she meant.
But it was, right?
The phone remained silent, leaving me to answer my own questions.
“Well, fuck.” I pushed my legs forward, clicking on my torch to shine into all the dark spaces the floodlights missed. I felt lighter, and renewed, even though I’d merely read a text message from my wife.
Did she send it from the kitchen table, her hand caressing her stomach as she stared at bills she couldn’t afford? But I was paying her enough, so she didn’t have to worry. What was going on?
Then it hit me. The house hadn’t sold, and Lila was pregnant. She’d always been practical and ever logical. Maybe she knew the house wouldn’t sell until she was heavily pregnant, and knowing her like I did, she wouldn’t want to move then.
She wouldn’t get paid much being off with the baby, and she’d need money more than ever then. If I were living there, I could provide financially without her paying anything.
I swallowed. I’d probably have to continue to work more hours, but whatever it took so she didn’t have the stress.
Still, I needed to get home and charge my battery so I could arrange to see her.
My torch continued to light up corners while my mind worked on overdrive. The wet gravel crunched beneath my boots, and the rain drenched my face, but I didn’t care.
Lila needed me to move home.
Fuck yes!
As what, though, a fucking roomie? How could I do that? See her every day, with my baby growing inside of her, and not be able to touch her or hold her?
I remembered what my mother had said the other night at dinner: You have to focus on being a father now. Make money, support Lila, and be the best person you can be.
That’s what Dad would’ve done.
But dad wouldn’t have fucked another woman.
I lurched forward, eyes blinking away the rain as I tried to focus on the job.
But Jesus, my chest hurt. I felt like there was a band tightening around it, and with each second that passed, it grew tighter.
I inhaled the damp air, stopping and closing my eyes as I tipped my head back.
I listened to the rain falling around me and focused on my breathing.
Maybe this was a good thing. Maybe I could…
What? Get her back?
I opened my eyes and shook my head, laughing at myself.
Lila would rather set me on fire.
I headed into the building, grateful for the cover from the rain. I stomped my feet on the makeshift mat and then started checking inside, my eyes burning with tears.
I loved Lila so fucking much. Yet I didn’t have any right to tell her that. I didn’t deserve her, but I still wanted her. It took losing her to realise it, and that made nausea rise in my throat.
She was pregnant, and because of me, she was in the middle of a divorce, trying to sell our house on a shitty wage.
“Fucking hell,” I muttered, peering into each room as my torch swept the dark corners. “You’ve really fucked this up, Rossi.”
But still.
It was something that Lila wanted to talk, and even if it was just for financial reasons, I’d take it.
Now all I needed to do was get through this shift.