Replacing my ex

Chapter 7

“Who was that?!” Sam squealed, grabbing my arm.

“Yeah,” added Viola, practically bouncing in one spot.

“I have no idea,” I replied, still staring into the darkness.

“But you gave him your number, right?” Viola asked, her eyes wide. “Right?”

“No,” I whispered.

“Lila, pleasssssseeeee,” Viola whined, dropping her head back, while Sam groaned loudly beside her.

“Enough from the exasperation orchestra!” I laughed, shaking my head.

“I, for one, am not exasperated,” Sam declared, placing a hand dramatically over her heart. “I’m bereft.”

“Desolate, even,” Viola added, giggling.

“Downright inconsolable,” yelled Sam.

“Some might say forlorn,” I tossed in.

We couldn’t stop laughing after that.

When we finally pulled ourselves together, we made a quick decision to go on an emergency midnight food run. Holding our heels in our hands, we walked down the sidewalk in our bare feet, and sang silly songs all the way to a twenty-four-hour fast food restaurant Sam recommended.

After eating, we ordered an uber, dropping Sam off at her apartment building before heading home.

Even though the spare room was all set up for me by now, I ended up curling up in Viola’s bed next to her. For some reason the thought of sleeping alone in a quiet room felt terrifying, even if Ryan hadn’t actually slept in our marital bed multiple nights in the past year.

The next day passed in a comforting haze.

We slept in late, made a massive brunch, and spent the rest of the day having a mini spa day, doing home facials and painting each others’ nails.

That night, as we lay in the dark, the weight of reality settled back onto my chest.

“What am I going to do now that my life is over?” I whispered to the ceiling.

“Just take it one step at a time, L,” Viola replied from her side of the bed.

I groaned, burying my face in the pillow.

“I’m serious,” she continued, reaching over to pat my shoulder.

“I know it’s crazy right now, but eventually, things will start looking up. In the meantime, let’s literally only focus on one small step at a time.”

“How?” I asked,

“Well, the first step is tomorrow,” Viola instructed gently. “You’ll log into your bank portal and get all the bank statements Sam requested. After that, we’ll figure out the next step and take it from there. Deal?”

“Deal,” I murmured, letting the steady rhythm of her breathing lull me to sleep.

At seven o’clock on Sunday morning, my phone started buzzing violently next to me.

I scrambled out of bed, grabbing the phone and rushing to the kitchen so I wouldn’t wake Viola.

The screen displayed an unknown number.

I swiped answer and pressed the phone to my ear.

“Hello?”

No answer.

“Helllooooo. I can hear you breathing, you know” I said, my brow furrowing.

“Stay away from Ryan!” a sharp, hysterical woman’s voice shrieked through the speaker.

I froze.

“What? Willow? Is that you?”

Click.

She hung up.

Oh, hell no.

My blood boiled. I immediately called back. Just when I thought it would go to voicemail, she answered.

“Just leave us alone, please. Don’t be a b***h,” Willow whined into the phone.

“Excuse me?” I gasped, utter shock warring with white-hot rage.

“Ryan loves me. He doesn’t want you anymore. Leave him alone. Why can’t you-“

“Listen to me, you pathetic little leech,” I cut in sharply, my voice dropping to a deadly lethal calm.

“Don’t you ever. EVER. Pick up your phone and call me. Okay? Do. Not. Try. Me. You have no idea who you’re messing with. Do everyone a favor and crawl back into the garbage can you crawled out of.”

I hung up the phone before she could speak, my heart hammering against my ribs.

The audacity! The absolute nerve! Who does she think she is? Leave Ryan alone? The same Ryan who had been pounding on the door not too long ago?

The phone vibrated in my hand. I didn’t even bother looking at the caller ID.

“Are you deaf?” I bellowed into the phone.

“Lila?”

It was Ryan. I hung up instantly. He must have got another number to harass me with.

What is happening today?

A barrage of text notifications immediately flooded my screen.

RYAN: Please hun

RYAN: I can explain

RYAN: Whatever you think happened, you’re wrong

RYAN: Please unblock me

RYAN: I’m begging you

RYAN: I swear to you, Lila. I’m innocent

RYAN: Please just talk to me

I scoffed in disbelief.

Innocent?

I immediately blocked this number too, pacing the kitchen floor like a caged animal as toxic adrenaline coursed through my veins.

I needed an outlet for the rage before I exploded. I aggressively scrubbed the kitchen counters and made a pot of coffee and some pancakes for Viola and me. I forced myself to eat breakfast.

After a quick shower, I sat down with my laptop at the kitchen table. I started creating a secure folder for Sam. I uploaded the text thread with Willow, all the images she had sent me, and my scanned copy of the title deed to the apartment.

Next, I logged into my online banking portal to pull our account histories.

I started with our joint operating account.

As I scrolled through, my jaw tightened. Hundreds of charges jumped out at me. Luxury hotel bookings, high-end jewelers, and recurring charges at expensive women’s boutiques. All dating back two years. Thousands upon thousands of dollars spent on clothes, bags, and shoes that had never once entered my closet.

So his personal account wasn’t enough to fund his mistress? He had to use our shared living expenses too?

I saved the PDF statements and added them to my folder. I moved to our joint high-yield savings account. This was the money meant for our future plans, our retirement, our safety net.

I clicked the balance tab.

The moment the screen loaded, a choked sound tore from my throat. A half gasp, half sob.

I knew the apartment Ryan bought Willow had put a sizable dent in the account, but I expected it to still have at least a couple hundred thousand. To my utter shock though, the savings account was completely empty!

Well, not completely. We still have five dollars and forty three damn cents to share between the two of us, I thought bitterly.

How could it have happened? And how could he have made withdrawals without my signature?

I scrolled frantically down the transaction log, my hands shaking so hard I could barely control the trackpad. Withdrawal after withdrawal. Wire transfer after wire transfer.

And then I saw the final wire that left me motionless: a payment directly to a luxury auto dealership for a brand new Porsche Macan GTS.

He hadn’t just bought her an apartment. He had bought her a luxury sports car, completely paid off, using my life’s work.

He had stripped me bare.

All I had now was the few thousand in my personal account. How was I going to move out of Viola’s apartment anytime soon, how would I survive? Most importantly, how would I be able to afford a lawyer for the divorce???