Chapter 121

Drew’s POV

The door clicked shut behind me with a sharp finality, but it might as well have been the slam of a gavel. Judgment passed, case closed.

Lila’s father had made it clear I was not welcome. And worse Lila herself had asked me to leave.

I stood on the porch for a few seconds longer than I should have, staring into the night as though the darkness could steady me. My chest rose and fell too quickly, the air burning as it left me. I had come here believing I could explain, believing I could undo even a fraction of the damage between us. Instead, I left her in tears.

And for the first time in years, I did not feel like Drew Sinclair, the man who bent circumstances to his will. I just felt… small.

I forced my legs to move, descending the porch steps slowly, each one heavier than the last. My car waited by the entrance, sleek and out of place in the small town street. I gripped the door handle but did not open it.

The thought of driving back to the city, back to the cold apartment and the office filled with whispers about my mood, felt unbearable. I could not face that emptiness. Not after seeing her eyes brimming with tears, eyes that looked at me not with anger, but with devastation.

I could not go back. I needed another opportunity to apologize and set things right with Lila. I need her to see that I am not doing this because I want to get revenge of because she was carrying my child. I meant every word I said.

I have forgotten what love should feel like after Kimberley broke me but it is hard to deny the pull I feel towards Lila. It's greater that what I ever felt for Kimberley so it just has to be love.

So instead of sliding behind the wheel and speeding away like I usually did when life got complicated, I pulled out my phone. The PI had included the name of the town when he sent me the address. I typed it into the search bar, looking for hotels nearby.

There were not many and just two looked decent enough. I picked one at random and called asking if they had an available room for the night and luckily they did.

I booked it quickly before I could change my mind and drive into the night back to the city instead.

The drive there was short, maybe ten minutes, but each mile felt like a trial. My reflection in the windshield shifted in and out of focus with the passing streetlights. My eyes looked hollow. My jaw clenched and unclenched, replaying every word I had said to her, every word she had thrown back at me.

And her response, gutted me and I could see how much pain I had caused her. I quickly reached out to my flask so I could take a sip of my whisky and noticed it was finished. I needed alcohol to at least get through the pain of this night so I made a mental note to ask the receptionist if they had a bar within the hotel where I could buy a drink.

I parked outside the hotel, gripping the steering wheel until my knuckles went white. Then, forcing myself to move, I checked in, barely listening as the receptionist handed me the key card. My voice was flat when I asked the question I knew I should not be asking.

“Is there a bar within the hotel.”

The receptionist nodded in negative politely. “We don't have a bar within the hotel but there is one two streets down. Locals usually go there and they have good drinks at good prices.”

I thanked her and headed for my room, tossing my bag onto the bed the second I got in. But the silence of the room was worse than the one in Lila’s living room. My thoughts echoed too loudly here and my shame filled the walls.

I needed something to drown it.

So I left again, telling myself I would only buy the drinks and come back. No lingering, no chance for small town gossip to spread about a stranger at the bar. Just in, purchase, out.

The bar sat on the corner of a busy but narrow street. Its neon sign buzzed faintly, and muffled laughter spilled out each time the door swung open. I shoved my hands into my pockets and walked in, the smell of beer and fried food wrapping around me instantly.

I kept my head down, heading straight for the counter. “Whiskey. Two bottles. To go,” I said, my voice clipped.

The bartender nodded, moving to grab them. I thought I was in the clear until a voice behind me spoke.

“Hey, you must be Drew Sinclair. Can I chat with you for a while? I am Daniel by the way.”

I stiffened. I knew that voice, though I had only heard it briefly before. Slowly, I turned and I stood face to face with the man who had walked in with Lila earlier also with the little boy. I still did not know his relationship with Lila.

He wore a simple work shirt, rolled up at the sleeves and a toolbox resting by his feet while his hands were extended towards me for a handshake. His dark hair was mussed from effort, and a faint smear of grease marked his forearm. He looked every bit the man who belonged here, who fit into this town, into Lila’s life.

And the sight of him made something coil tightly in my chest.

“What do you want?” I asked sharply, ignoring the handshake.

He tilted his head, arms crossing over his chest. “I should be asking you that. What did you come here for, Drew? What did you want with Lila? You certainly do not belong here and judging from Lila and her parents’ reaction it is obvious they don't want you here. So what brings you to our small town?”

I felt the bartender place the bottles on the counter beside me, but I did not reach for them yet. My eyes narrowed. “That is none of your business.”

“Actually, it is,” Daniel said calmly, though his jaw tightened. “Because Lila is my friend. And after seeing her tonight, after seeing how shaken she was when you showed up I think I deserve to ask.”

My blood heated instantly. Friend. He had called himself her friend, claimed that title so easily, while I, the man who could not stop thinking about her was being told I was bad for her.

“You don’t know me or my relationship with Lila so I would suggest you stay out of it.” I bit out.

“Of course I do not know much about you asides from what the press has to say.” Daniel admitted, his voice steady. “But I know what I saw. And what I saw was a woman who looked like she was breaking apart because of you. So forgive me if I say you are bad for her and that you should stay away from her. Lila doesn't belong in your world so I think it's best you let her be.”

The words landed like a slap. Something inside me snapped.

Before I could think, before I could stop myself, my hand shot out and shoved him. Hard.

Daniel stumbled back a step, his toolbox clattering to the ground. His eyes flashed, and he surged forward, fist half raised, but a chorus of shouts erupted around us. Other people's attention was now drawn to us

“Hey, hey!”

“Knock it off!”

Two men rushed between us, grabbing Daniel by the arms, holding me back by the shoulders. The bartender shouted something about taking it outside.

I stood there, chest heaving, my fists clenched. Daniel glared at me over the shoulders of the men holding him, his face taut with anger but there was something else in his eyes too. Pity.

It enraged me more than the shove, more than the words. Pity.

“You do not belong here, so just leave.” Daniel said, his voice low but cutting through the noise. “And Lila deserves better than the mess you keep dragging her into.”

The men shoved me toward the door, practically dragging me out. I did not fight them. My pride had already taken enough of a beating tonight.

The night air hit me like ice as the door slammed shut behind me. My pulse roared in my ears. My hands trembled, whether from rage or humiliation, I could not tell.

I stood there for a long moment, staring at the street, at the people passing by who did not know me and didn’t care about me and for once, I envied them.

Finally, I exhaled, sharp and bitter. I could not stay here. Not in this town. Not in this suffocating closeness where everyone seemed to know Lila, where men like Daniel thought they had the right to tell me what I was to her.

I walked back to the hotel, grabbed my bag without even bothering to unpack, and marched straight to the car.

The drive back to the city stretched endlessly. The road blurred beneath my headlights, but my mind was sharper than ever, cutting me open with the same refrain.

I had lost her.

Not just tonight but maybe for good.

And the worst part? I did not know if there was anything I could do to get her back.