Love Is Louder

by Antoinette Candela

  “Are you okay with this, babe?” He shoots me an apprehensive glance.

  “What’s that look for?” I come up behind him, running my hand through his hair. “You think I can’t handle it?”

  “We haven’t had a party since we moved here. It’s a little last minute, and I just want to make sure you’re fine with it.”

  “Sure, I’m fine with it.”

  Am I really?

  I’m not a social butterfly, and I’m not a Martha Stewart. The idea of coordinating an event in my house seems daunting to me, but I have to get over it.

  A smiling James cups my cheek with his large hands and looks up into my eyes and leans up to kiss me.

  “There’s that look again.”

  “‘There’s that look again,’” I repeat, drowning in his blue depths. “Sure, I can do this. Caterer, red, white, and blue frilly stuff, sparklers and some alcohol, and we’re good to go, right?”

  “Pretty simple. And you can do your thing with your camera.”

  “Yes, sounds perfect,” I muse, kissing him one last time before I make my way to the open patio doors. I close my eyes as the sun kisses my skin and the scent of freshly cut grass fills my nose.

  Why do I feel like I’m forgetting something?

  Pictures. Fourth of July. Lily’s birthday.

  “Shit,” I complain, snapping my eyes open.

  “What is it, babe?”

  “I just remembered...” I pause. “I have a photo shoot that day.”

  “On the Fourth of July? When do you work holidays?”

  “It was pretty spontaneous. It’s a birthday party for a four-year-old girl. I couldn’t say no.”

  “Well, we can just schedule it later or whenever you’re done with this job.”

  “Yes, it should work out.”

  He strides over to me and wraps his arms around my shoulders. “Who is this lucky little girl who has the extreme pleasure of employing my talented wife to take her birthday pictures?”

  “You won’t believe it, but it’s Lily Marks.”

  “Lily Marks? Should I know her?” he adds, absently playing with my hair. I love when he does this. Something so simple and intimate means so much more to me than any grand gestures.

  “Your friend from high school, Mason Marks, has a daughter. They came by the studio the other day.”

  When I say this, his hands drop slowly to his side, and he steps slightly in front of me. “Mason has a daughter?” He shakes his head in disbelief. “Wow.” I watch as he takes a heavy swallow, perspiration building on his upper lip.

  His reaction throws me, and I’m curious about the thoughts in his head after finding out his friend is a father. Will this change how he feels about having kids, knowing this about Mason? Is it envy he’s feeling?

  “You sound surprised.”

  “He just doesn’t seem like the kind of guy that would want kids.”

  “And what does that kind of guy look like?” I ask pointedly. With deliberate slowness, I lift my head and confront him. His stiffly crooked lips and nervously blinking eyes belie his confidence. He walked right into this argument. I step away from the patio doors, push my shoulders back and set my coffee mug gently onto the countertop.

  “Shit, Brie. Don’t start this.”

  “Well, you look like a guy that doesn’t want kids. Black hair, blue eyes, six-two. No kids, right?” My words drip with sarcasm. Anger begins to spew from my body. There are two things in which I’m passionate—my photography and kids—and James is well aware of them. “She’s a cutie, too. Light blue eyes, angel soft brown hair. You should meet her. Maybe it will change your mind on wanting to have kids soon.”

  I tiptoe my gaze down his heaving chest. Avoiding this topic means he wins, and my silence gives him strength. We are partners, equals. Ignoring my needs is not fair to me. He needs to hear me.

  “Please, listen to me.” The plea in my tone is clear and palpable. I see the tightness in his jaw as he opens his mouth to speak.

  “No,” he says sternly as he rests both of his hands upon the marble countertop. “Not now.”

  The heat in his words cracks my courage, tightening the muscles in my face. I want to cry. I want to scream. The words sting so deeply that my breathing stalls.

  Breathe. One. Two. Three.

  Minutes pass by. I relax my face and look him straight in the eyes, and he stares right back. Just as I am about to turn away and leave to escape the pain of his words, he clutches my elbow and our heated gazes collide before he slides his hand down my arm to my hand. I pull away.

  “When? If not now, when?” I demand, meeting his unwavering eyes. I want to see something soften, bend, anything, but it looks like I’m staring into an endless stormy sea. Why does he feel so strongly about this? I don’t understand.

  “Not now. Please, Brie.” There’s torment behind his words. “You see how busy I am. There is so much going on right now. I have so much at stake. I have so much to prove.”

  “To whom?” I pivot and meet his narrowed glare. The potency of his anger saturates my skin and bleeds into every pore, as tension creeps through my limbs.

  “To myself. To my parents. Harvard wasn’t cheap. People have expectations,” he says, distant and irritated. “I told you this already.”

  “What about my expectations of you as my husband?”

  “What about you? Do you think you can handle having a child right now?” The way he hurts me makes me sad, but I conceal it. “Alone, when I’m in the office? With your photography business growing? Were you going to have someone else raise it? Is that what you fucking want?”

  “We’ll figure it out.” I expel a deep breath. “Don’t you care that I’m upset and angry?” I glare at the man I love who’s telling me he can’t give me the one thing I want. It sucks that he thinks he can do whatever and say whatever he wants, and I have to always be the doting submissive wife. He still hasn’t given me a good reason why.

  “I do care, but I fucking can’t give you a reason right now. A reason you want to hear.”

  “Make me understand. Tell me.” A timeworn ache breaks in my chest that I mask under a steady breath as I let my eyes fall to the floor. “I want to know why, James.”

  “Just give me time.”

  Calmly, he closes the space between us and lifts his hand to my cheek. I stay still as he traces my jaw, lifting my chin to meet his eyes. I lean back as my eyes lock on his. I don’t respond. I can’t.

  “I’m sorry. We’ll talk. I promise,” he whispers. He drops his lips to mine, pressing the seam of his lips to my bottom one. Clutching my body against his, I feel the tension lift between us just for a moment, for now.

  I will hold him to this promise.

  “What a morning.” Lisa sighs, shoving the piles of papers back into the dog-eared case files. “This Meadow Marks’ case that was reopened is a mystery.” She waves the file in front of me like a red flag. “Don’t you think? So many inconsistencies?”

  “Yes, it is.” Chills run down my spine, and my blood pressure rises. I’d love to wrap my hands around the person’s neck that decided to open their mouth about this case. In four years, no one has had anything of substance to bring to the table. Now, as the DA, I am going to have to prosecute because I want this case, and the thought makes me laugh to the point of tears. Tears of frustration. Perhaps there’s a way to make it all vanish again. I have to think on this.

  “Poor woman was only twenty-six and six months pregnant. So tragic.” She shakes her head, slipping the file under her arm.

  Clearing my troubled thoughts, I turn to her and nod, saying, “When a person dies like that, it’s always tragic. I hope someone comes forward.”

  What utter bullshit. I want nothing more than for this case to just disappear.

  “Her file says she went to Massapequa High School, like you,” Lisa says, waiting with unfaltering eyes for a reply. “She was beautiful. You must have known her.”

  I raise a brow at her, trying t
o contain my shock, even though I shouldn’t be surprised she has knowledge of this. As lawyers, we investigate, but this is more than just about the case. We both know that.

  She blushes and chuckles. “Well…I always make it a point to know the person I’ll be working closely with.”

  I hesitate, nervously clicking my ballpoint pen. “Yes, I knew of her.”

  I have enough shit on my plate now. With the addition of this, my already hectic life is becoming even more unmanageable. I wasn’t the DA when this case was opened four years ago. I was fresh out of law school, engaged, and my life was just beginning.

  “Hey, you don’t look so good. Are you okay?”

  I collapse in my chair behind my desk. “Sure.”

  She smiles with intent and walks toward me. Placing her hands onto my desk, she bends over so I can benefit from her unbuttoned blouse. Everything Lisa does is strategic when she’s around me.

  “Come on. Let’s get some coffee. Maybe the fresh air will make you feel better.” She straightens up, adjusting her ass-hugging skirt mere inches from my face.

  “No, maybe later. I have a case I need to close.”

  “Don’t we all?” She frowns playfully as she spins toward the door.”Last call,” she teases, swaying her hips for my viewing pleasure.

  Damn that ass. Damn my cock.

  Situating myself behind my chair, I adjust my dick tenting my slacks and flip open Meadow’s case file that’s burning a hole on my desk and in my brain.

  “Rain check.” I shoot her a weary smile.

  “Fine. I’m always here if you need anything.”Her voice is smooth as she opens the door. “You know where to find me.”

  I concede with a slight nod before she steps out and closes the door.

  With a sigh, I rock back in my chair and fold my hands behind my head, feeling guilty for so many things lately. Moving back was a planned move on my part, and since then, it’s been back-to-back obstacles and constant interference from my mother.

  Leaning forward, I slowly thumb through the pages of Meadow’s file, trying to figure out who could have possibly put this case back on the radar. Her image haunts me to this day. She was a beautiful woman both inside and out. She didn’t deserve what happened to her.

  The sharp bite of my cell phone breaks the palpable silence. I absently grab it while reading through the notes I made after reviewing the case all morning trying to decode the bullshit and any loophole I didn’t cover.

  “Hello, James Fleming.”

  “Good morning, Mr. Fleming.” The man’s voice is strong and confident, and one I don’t recognize. “I hear you’re taking on the Meadow Marks’ case. Isn’t that a conflict of interest?”

  “Who is this?” I drawl out as I shoot up in my chair. “What do you want?” Anger is an issue I’ve dealt with since I moved back here. It’s too early in the day to lose it, so I swallow my frustration.

  “Not sure yet. Still pondering my options.”

  “Is this Mason? Mason Marks?” I pick up my letter opener and start poking the desk with the sharp edge. Who else could it be?

  “Nice guess, but no cigar. I’ll be in touch again...real soon.”

  “Were you—”

  The line goes silent before I can complete my thought. I run my hands over my forehead trying in vain to get my brain to absorb what just happened. I should have left the office to get that damn coffee, but a trip to Starbucks is not going to make any of this shit go away. I grab my suit jacket before telling my secretary to hold my calls until I get back from making this one phone call.

  I head out of the building, away from the center of town where it’s swarming with parents and kids running amuck. I immediately feel like a prick for not telling Brie that I’m not ready for kids. It’s not the answer she wants. It’s so damn selfish of me, but I can’t help it.

  The look on her face—the one that unnerves me to the core each time we talk about having a family—it’s like she can read my mind. I need to figure things out. I can’t tell her there’s nothing to worry about when there is.

  I let my worries scatter for the time being as I mingle and melt into the throngs of passersby. I place my call and locate a secluded spot when my attention is drawn to a little girl with wavy, dark brown locks dressed in a pink sundress with her backpack bouncing on her shoulders. This isn’t the first time I’ve seen her. I’ve watched her play in the park, not knowing who she was until Mason’s mother called out her name and then she disappeared in her arms and walked away. I didn’t get a good look at her. Not until today.

  I disconnect my phone call without a second thought, even as the person answers with a hello. I feel the pull to look at this little girl more closely, to catch the color of her mother’s eyes, to get a peek of the little baby that survived the accident four years ago. Meadow told me a couple of times that if she was going to have a girl she was going to name her Lily after her favorite flower. And she did. Lily is as pure and innocent as they come.

  Meadow was strong when Cole Foster left her. She never told me why he abandoned her, but I’m confident it was because he wasn’t ready to be a father. I have to say I can relate to that. There were times she wanted to tell me something, but she never got the chance, and that is all in the past now. Unspoken words, unspoken truths. Meadow was upfront and open, but when Cole left her, she became closed off. She didn’t smile the same way anymore, and it troubled me that she didn’t want to talk about it.

  I tried to remain stoic when Brie told me Mason was Lily’s daughter, as it made the blood in my veins run cold. It fucking threw me. Why is Mason saying he’s her father and having her take his last name? Clearly, she isn’t Mason’s, but Brie wouldn’t know that. I only know because I knew Meadow, but I can’t tell Brie. I should, but maybe nothing will come of it. Maybe I don’t have to. Where is Cole? Has he not come to claim her? He must be scared shitless about fatherhood, like I am. It’s not that I don’t like kids. I like them, and I always thought of having one of my own, but now things are all over the place in my life. I can’t have the added responsibility of a child right now. It would not be fair to the baby if I can’t be the father I should be.

  I briefly consider leaving the park, but the intrigue is too great. I’m drawn to her because of the case, what I’ve read about her life, and because she’s Meadow’s flesh and blood. I watch her leap into the arms of Mason’s mother, whom I’ve seen at the flower shop numerous times in the past, but now I find it difficult to even go by the shop anymore.

  Like a coward, I hide myself, watching her with an almost morbid curiosity from behind a tree. She looks so much like her mother. I’d love to hear the sound of her voice. I bet it’s sweet and melodic like Meadow’s, whom I’d heard sing so many times. I feel ill, wondering what her life is like without knowing her parents.

  Lily grins at her grandmother and wraps her arms around her neck and giggles. I smile, unable to pull myself away from seeing Lily so happy. Now, with the reopening of the case, it will allow me to learn more about Lily and her life without drawing attention to myself. Lily may come out unscathed, or she may be hurt, and I’d hate to see that. I may have a part in all of this, and it sucks like hell, but this is my job.

  I grow self-conscious as the crowd thins. As I turn to leave, I peer across the park one last time and make eye contact with Mason’s mother. She sets Lily down to go play in the park and straightens herself, brushing wisps of her hair away from her face, her eyes once again connecting with mine.

  Fuck. Did she know I was here all along? Does she remember me?

  I give her a short, clipped wave and pull out my aviators from my coat pocket and slip them over my eyes, hesitating for a moment before I escape down the sidewalk and cross the street.

  My phone vibrates in my hand, causing reality to come crashing down around me like a crumbling skyscraper. My attention was so wrapped up in that little girl that I’d forgotten why I came out here in the first place. I swipe my shaky finger over the screen
and answer.

  “Hello?”

  “You called.”

  “Yes.” I cover my ear with my right hand and rush through the crowd until I find a quiet area outside the coffee shop to talk. “There have been some developments you’re not going to like regarding Meadow’s case.”

  “What? What are you talking about? I thought everything was taken care of. That—”

  “I just wanted to make you aware of this,” I interrupt.

  “What are we going to do?”

  “We?!” I say, my voice rising. “I can’t get into this right now. I’ll call you later. This is a heads-up. I told you this might never go away.”

  “But—”

  I don’t care to listen anymore, so I hang up and turn off my phone. After shoving it into my pocket, I head to the liquor store before returning to the office.

  I gulp down the rest of my scotch as I work, but my convoluted thoughts inevitably wander back to Meadow, Lily, and Brie.

  The anxiety mounts within me at some of the decisions I’ve made and how they haunt me. Secrets I plan to take to my grave, if I can, and some that are unearthing themselves with a vengeance.

  Heels click on the marble floor of the empty hallway, getting noticeably closer and abruptly stopping outside my door. I look down at my Rolex. It’s nearly seven o’clock. Everyone is gone for the day, well, almost everybody. I’m very aware of who is outside. I have become accustomed to the pace of her determined stride. Dragging myself from the past I’ve lost myself in for the past few minutes, I lean back in my chair, staring at the door as it slowly creeps open.

  “James?” Lisa peeks inside.

  “What is it?” I sit up straight in my chair, admiring her through my alcoholic haze as she saunters over to me with raw hunger in her eyes.

  “Rough day?” she asks in a sultry voice. She stands still, making my cock stiffen as she bites her lip.

  “Yes,” I mumble. Picking up the half full bottle of scotch, I fill my glass again as she comes around my desk. I drain the entire contents in one swallow and place the empty glass onto my desk as the burn coats my throat.