INSURANCE

CHAPTER FOUR

I couldn’t see well. The door was blocking my view. The door only allowed me to see Lila. As I was about to nudge the door open to see the man, Lila’s face jerked upright and she saw me. She quickly pulled off the man and tossed him further into the room, out of my sight entirely. Her lips parted in shock.

“Tes-Tessa. What are you doing here?”

Then it dawned on me. I was peeping on Lila fucking. I quickly stepped back, embarrassment crawling up my cheeks.

“I’m so sorry, Lila,” I apologized and fled to the room.

Immediately I made it in, I mentally slapped myself.

“Julian, you wouldn't believe what I just did,” I called out, only to realize the room was empty.

That's weird. I saw his car in the parking lot.

“Julian?” I called out. Did he go to get something?

I checked the bathroom. He wasn't there, and the bathroom stall was steamy, which meant he had just had his bath.

“Julian?” I continued calling as I stepped out of the room, climbing down the stairs.

Suddenly, he popped out of the kitchen, looking flustered.

He was shirtless, wearing only sweatpants that hung low around his waist, but he wasn't wearing briefs or boxers. The V-line of his sweatpants was visible. When I walked into the room earlier, the drawer where he kept his briefs and boxers was opened and tampered with, which is weird considering the fact that I tidied it up this morning and closed it after he left for work.

So he probably took from it this night.

“Where were you?”

He swallowed. “I went to grab water.”

I looked him up and down, my eyes tracing the streak of sweat trickling down his face to his chest. “Is that why you are sweating?”

“Hm?” He looked down. “Oh, this? You know I told you the AC in my car broke. My drive back home was like swimming in a river of sweat. But I'm about to go have my bath now—”

“Bath?” I cut in, a bile rising in my throat. “What bath? You just had your bath, Julian. The bathroom is still steamy.”

He froze. “Then that's probably Lila. I need to tell her to stop using our bathroom like she owns it. I have to go have my bath, sweetheart.”

Then he leaned in to press his lips on mine. “Welcome home, baby.” And he left.

He tasted of salt.

My gaze followed him, my heart shattering when I saw that he wore his sweatpants backward.

No. No way. Lila was his cousin. There is no way he is screwing her. I tried to calm my racing heart as I made it up the stairs.

I couldn't sleep all night, even with Julian's arm caging mine and his erection pressed against me. My eyes were open all night.

By the time it was morning, I waited for Julian and Lila to leave before I got out of the room to confirm the suspicion myself.

I stepped into Lila’s room without flicking the switch on. It was arranged, unlike that day I walked in.

I looked around. If Julian wasn't wearing his boxers again when I saw him last night and he didn't go back to Lila’s room, that should mean his boxers were in her room.

I started searching: her wardrobe, under her bed, under her couch, in her bedside table drawer.

I was about to give up when I saw something white peeking behind the couch. I reached for it. Lo and behold, it was the brief I got for him last month, amongst other things.

My heart shattered.

He is really cheating on me with Lila. But Lila is his cousin—how does this even make any sense?

My head spun, my ears rang. It was as though I was back in the hospital room again when that doctor told me they had to remove my womb for a successful surgery.

I stumbled out, holding my chest as it became so tight I was fighting for oxygen. I went straight to the kitchen, thinking a glass of water could erase it like the other times, but jokes on me because after I drank two glasses of water, the pain persisted and even got worse. Next, the migraine squeezed my head so tightly it was as though it was going to burst in an explosion. The migraine pulled from my forehead all the way to the back of my neck, making me hold my neck so tight I screamed out.

The painkillers. The painkillers were in Julian’s office. I stumbled there, with blurry vision, an intense migraine, and a tight chest.

The painkillers were in the drawer of his desk, but I hadn't even reached there before I crashed into his small shelf and caused all the books to tumble to the floor. One of them flew open. As I bent to pick them up, my fingers brushed the papers tucked between the one book that flew open.

I picked it up, the migraine and chest pain forgotten like a background character.

The content on the page had my world crashing the second time.

At the top of the page, it read: Life Insurance Beneficiary

Tessa Averton life insurance payout: 5 million dollars. Beneficiary: Spouse— Julian Averton. Signed by Julian.

Julian signed my life insurance payout already?

Does that mean he knew about my brain cancer all along?