Chapter 45
VICTOR
The bedroom door slammed, and I gripped the railings with both hands, praying it held me up.
I’m losing her.
Even when she was carrying our child, I was losing her. Nothing mattered to her anymore— nothing. Nothing I said or did, absolutely nothing.
I bowed my head as tears stung my eyes. So, who was coming to fly across America to see my fucking pregnant wife? Did he even know she was pregnant? What kind of sick fuck wanted to take a pregnant woman out? My knuckles tightened, and I gasped, forgetting to breathe.
Lila was going out with another man, a man who was both rich enough and keen enough to fly his ass across the States to see her.
That wasn’t casual, was it? Who was he? How did she meet him? Was she seeing him before we—no. She wouldn’t. Lila wasn’t cheap like that; she’d never cheat.
So, who was he?
I dragged my hands through my hair and tugged on it until it hurt, white hot pain slicing through my scalp. It felt good. Helped me focus.
And my fucking sister was adding fuel to the fire, getting excited over some cunt wanting to take Lila out.
So much for blood being thicker than water.
My stomach churned as I collapsed on the sofa, staring absently ahead. It was happening—it was truly fucking happening—every worst nightmare I’d ever had looked exactly like this.
Was she going to marry this guy? Have a family with him? With my fucking kid? Maybe even have more with him?
Fuck!
I sat forward and dropped my head between my knees, trying to calm myself down.
Deep breaths. It’s just a date. It doesn’t mean she’s going to fuck him—Lila is classy and pregnant. She wouldn’t do that.
My shoulders relaxed a little. Yeah, I was forgetting this was Lila we were talking about. Lila who’d only ever slept with me—goddammit. My teeth clenched and my eyes closed as I forced the thought of her with another man out of my mind.
Lila wouldn’t. Not even for revenge, she just wasn’t like that.
Feeling a little better about the fucked situation, I grabbed her laptop to see if she was logged into her email. I had zero shame as I tapped in her password and the screen flashed up—a screensaver that was once of her and me was now of a Greek sunset.
She even outshone the sun.
I shook my head and clicked her emails, desperate to find the name of this fucking guy. I had to check him out. My gaze swept over the emails but there was nothing—there were only two emails in her inbox. She wasn’t the sort to let it get cluttered, so… that meant he’d messaged her another way.
Think!
My head swam with tiredness, and I kept glancing at the stairs to make sure she wasn’t coming down them—even though I’d hear her, my anxiety at being found snooping was high.
How did I get to this fucking point?
I typed Instagram into the search bar, but it asked for a login.
Great. I tried her password for the laptop, but it didn’t work. It warned me I only had two attempts left, so I couldn’t try again.
I didn’t have a fucking clue what it was. Maybe ‘ihatevictor.’ Fuck it, I’d try that.
Incorrect password. There’s hope for me yet.
I shut the lid and pushed it away, feeling utterly useless. I had to find out who she was seeing.
Vanessa.
I grabbed my phone from my pocket and texted her, as much as I really didn’t want to.
Victor: I know you hate me, but she can’t date this guy. She’s pregnant with my baby, sis. Please. Who is he?
The blue dots appeared and stopped so many times I felt like my heart was auditioning for the fucking circus. Then…
Vanessa: You did this. Remember that. She can do whatever she wants.
This fucking woman. I wanted to murder her, sister or not. Fuck!
I texted Enzo next.
Victor: Lila is going on a date with some chump who’s flying across the country to see her.
Enzo: What? Like a tinder date? Is that safe?
Wait, was that it? A tinder date? My heart dropped as I imagined some psycho killer dragging Lila down dark alley ways and into dirty basements. Would Lila be on dating websites?
My stomach churned like I’d eaten a bad burger.
But then something Vanessa said hit me.
‘He said he’d fly to wherever you are to see you again?’
Again.
Victor: No, she’s met him before.
Enzo: Shit, I’m sorry man.
I frowned.
That’s it?
Victor: I need to find out who he is. I think my sister knows.
This time there wasn’t a quick response, and there were no floating dots telling me he was typing.
Fucking hell. Mention my sister and he went weird. I didn’t have time to work out if he had a crush on her—at his age? I didn’t care.
Finally, he responded:
Enzo: She won’t tell me, you know this. I’m your best friend; she won’t betray Lila like that. My advice? Just let her move on. You can’t carry on like this.
I tossed my phone away before he could start banging on about me getting some sleep or doing yoga at sunrise.
I was on my own with this. I would have to wait and see if I could get any more clues from Lila, and if not…
I sucked in a deep breath.
I’d need to wait until she met him.
The thought made me feel physically sick, but I didn’t have a choice. Lila was right—pretty soon the divorce papers would be finalised, and she could do whatever she wanted to do, legally, anyway.
I couldn’t stop her. The realisation that she was slipping away from me made me want to punch the fucking wall.
I couldn’t lose her!
I just couldn’t.
But my eyelids kept drooping, my body was aching, my soul was fucking distraught without its mate, and my brain was fried.
My wife had been through worse than knowing I was going on a date. She’d watched me fuck Cami and say shit meant only for her and her alone.
This was karma. This heavy, sick, guilty feeling was fucking karma. I had no choice but to wait this out.
This must be not even an ounce of what Lila had felt watching that video. I couldn’t even begin to imagine how I’d react. I’d probably rip my own teeth out.
I’m so fucking sorry, baby.
I trudged upstairs, stopping just to see if I could hear Lila, but there wasn’t a sound. I climbed into the spare bed, the cold sheets reminding me how fucked up my life was, because of my actions and tried to fall asleep.
But I couldn’t. I couldn’t stop imagining the pain of what Lila had gone through. What she was still going through. I swallowed and forced myself to imagine Lila riding some guy, or him fucking her from behind. My hands balled into fists, and I gritted my teeth so hard they ached.
I couldn’t. I wasn’t as strong as her. The worst part was that I was finally starting to see something—something I really didn’t want to admit.
But it was obvious now.
I didn’t fucking deserve her.
Maybe he did.