Love Is Louder

by Antoinette Candela

  I’m so done. Every second that passes makes the dark pit in my gut grow larger. I feel nothing, my heart a tangled, mangled pulp of pain. I look down at the photos again, and all I see is another lie from my husband.

  How many are there?

  Anger and hurt leap off my skin like fire licking at the last of my resolve, but I continue to look for more. Underneath my revealing photos are several yellowed newspaper articles about the hit-and-run case four years ago. No leads and no suspects. The case went cold.

  Why would he have these? I flip through several more dog-eared articles, and then my eyes pass over the picture of Mason and his family at her funeral, one of the baby in the NICU, and then the victim.

  I slide my finger over the crinkled newsprint. Nothing could have prepared me for this. I stare at the picture in my white knuckled grip until it blurs in a deluge of uninvited tears. I swipe violently, pulling at the delicate skin around my eyes.

  Hands shaking. Heart pounding in my chest. This is all surreal. The familiar eyes, the same blonde hair, and the pouty lips. Mason’s sister is the one I was obsessing over. Meadow was the mystery woman James was meeting.

  How come I didn’t see it? How could I have known?

  I force myself to read on.

  Meadow Marks, the victim, died at the hospital, and the baby survived. A little girl weighing barely three pounds was delivered by Caesarean section. The doctors tried everything to save the mother, but she lost too much blood. James never introduced me to her, but she was someone he could not seem to shake for some reason. He needed to see her; he needed to stay in touch. James asked me if I remembered anything four years ago. Why don’t I? I’ve been going around in circles, letting my thoughts tangle and falter.

  Does Mason know about James? Is this the reason there’s this tension between them?

  Anger and confusion shift slowly to calm, a calm before the storm. A storm that I know will undeniably hit.

  I replace everything as it was while my mind runs down numerous eddies, weighing my options as I pace back and forth, threading my fingers through my unruly hair. James cannot know I found these hidden items, not until I decide to confront him, and this time it will happen. As I close the lock box and replace it in its original spot, I know what I’m going to do. I’m going to pay my husband a visit at his office.

  A surprise rendezvous.

  I’m opening the cage to free the bird trapped inside, like I should have done a long time ago.

  I jump into the shower, making sure I use everything that James desires down to the Satsuma scented perfume. I want to be everything he wants; I want to fulfill his every dream, as well as fulfilling mine, and I’ll do everything in my power to achieve it. Feeling devious and sexy, I accentuate my eyes with liquid eyeliner, making sure to pull slightly at the corners to give a cat-eye effect. James loves this look.

  I’d do anything for him.

  That has been my mantra since we’ve been together. So this is for me, for both of us. I want him to see what he’s neglecting and what he has.

  I add some mascara to my long lashes with a slight bit of blush to my cheeks and opt for a bright red lip over my usual pale pink shade. Every garment I select from my closet is black—strapless bra, matching garter, a sexy strapless dress, and peep-toe heels. He won’t be able to resist me. I leave my hair down in long, loose waves and throw on some gold hoop earrings and a gold necklace with a diamond eternity pendant that James bought me for our first anniversary.

  Eternity. Infinity. Forever.

  I can’t help but laugh.

  What a sham, a joke, a delusional thought.

  Before I head downstairs to leave, I snatch my phone and text Ava, who’s part of the inspiration to my latest plans. I want to give her credit where credit is due for planting the seed in my brain.

  Me: I’m taking your advice.

  Ava: Which one? You know I have so many amazing ideas I can’t keep track.

  Me: I’m going to visit James at his office.

  Ava: Yeah...tell me more. I can give you some pointers. Lead you in the right direction.

  Me: Sexy...I’m going to surprise him. Take his mind off all these cases.

  Ava: Getting a little risqué. I like.

  Me: Spice it up a bit. Talk later.

  I send my last text and mute my phone. My stomach is churning, and my heart is ready to burst as I grab my keys and purse and head out. A gut feeling tells me this is going to be an unforgettable night.

  It’s after eight, and the sun has finally vanished into the horizon when I pull up to the modern glass structure that is the town hall. I peer up to the seventh floor where James’ office is located. I maneuver the car around back into the lower parking garage, kill the engine, check my reflection in the mirror, and reapply my lipstick. I spot James’ Range Rover right next to the elevator in the reserved spot about twenty feet away from me.

  The elevator door slides open. I slip down into the warm leather seat and watch as several of James’ colleagues exit, talking about where to go out for drinks. When everyone is gone, I exit my car and head to the elevator and climb to the first floor lobby.

  I sign in at the security desk, tell them who I am, and flash them my driver’s license. My heels clink against the marble floors as I make my way to the bank of elevators that will take me to the offices. My pulse pounds in my ears as my finger hovers over the Up button, and the chilled lobby air attacks my skin, causing goose bumps to rise.

  Closing my eyes, I fight the urge to go home, turn a blind eye, and wait for him to come home. I came here to surprise my husband and to add some spice into our lives that seems to have taken a backseat to his job. I hit the button, and the elevator doors slide open. There’s no turning back.

  Nothing is going on, Brie. Stop being so negative. That is what Natalie used to tell you. Rainbows and butterflies. Rainbows and butterflies.

  I slip inside. The finger of my right hand lingers over the number seven button. The glow from the keys leaps to my fingertips when I press it and slowly glide to the seventh floor. As the doors open, a cleaning lady pushing a cart walks by and smiles before disappearing into the ladies’ bathroom. I walk slowly and quietly down the hallway, passing office after office until I get to his, which is at the end of the corridor.

  I smile, adjust my skimpy dress, and smooth my hair before I push open the door.

  “James?”

  There’s the sound of rustling of papers and a door closing.

  “Brie?” His voice is tense and low.

  I slip inside the office, which is barely lit by a desk lamp that casts ghostly shadows across the room. James is seated at his desk behind a pile of papers with an empty bottle of wine and two glasses. His tie is off, and his shirt is in disarray, like he just put it back on. My heart starts to beat furiously as I lift my eyes from the bottle to his eyes.

  Awkward silence. I shift in my heels, trying to hold his eyes. He stiffens before he speaks.

  “What are you doing here?” His usual steely resolve is replaced by unsure panic.

  “I’m your wife, and I wanted to come visit you. Why? Did I interrupt something? Should I not be here?”

  My eyes skitter, taking note of his office. The blinds are drawn, our wedding picture is on a bookshelf behind his desk, and his tie is hanging on an armchair. A silk ivory blouse, white lace bra, and a black skirt are tossed on the Oriental rug. Everything comes to a halt. I’m frozen. I can’t stop looking and soaking in the clues surrounding me like an ugly crime scene. I now can smell the sex in the air.

  Rage blooms in my chest, replacing the uneasy sorrow that I was afraid of. I stand with my back straight, feet firmly planted in reality.

  He pushes off his chair, runs his hand through his hair, and clears his throat as he follows his gaze to the floor toward the bathroom where light streams through the small space under the closed door. The man I love stands in front of me, and for the first time, I see guilt in his eyes.

  My lim
bs are tingling as I try to remain standing in my heels. I cover myself, crossing my arms over my chest. I feel like a complete idiot coming here.

  “Who is she?”

  For the first time in my life, my heart shatters with so much force the physical ache is unbearable. Time stands still. My hands tremble as I clench them into tight fists, my fingernails sinking violently into my palm.

  “She doesn’t mean anything.”

  My eyes burn, and tears start to form. At that moment, the bathroom door creeps open, and Lisa steps out, wearing nothing but white lace panties and my husband’s suit jacket. Her perfect breasts are partially exposed, her blonde hair is a mess, and her pink lipstick is smudged.

  Were her lips around my husband’s cock?

  I start hyperventilating, my body tightening in hurt and anger. Everything around me is fading, but cruelly everything is crystal clear. What I thought was happening was happening all along. I glare at Lisa and then back at James. How stupid and naïve I have been.

  I stare at the clothes haphazardly thrown in the office, unable to make eye contact with my husband. Did James rip them off her? Did she seduce him by peeling them off? She looks like the slutty type for sure. The fucking whore went after my husband, and James wasn’t strong enough to resist. I don’t want to think about my husband fucking another woman. I don’t want to think that perhaps I’m not enough for him.

  “Lisa, you need to leave. Brie and I have to talk,” he says as he picks up Lisa’s clothes from the floor and shoves them into her arms. “Please, go.”

  “James—”

  “Just go, Lisa,” he spits out. “Fucking go!” He rakes his hand through his already disheveled hair.

  Was the dirty whore pulling on it while he was deep inside her? Was he bored or curious or horny? Has he done this before? Can I understand this? Ignore this? Forgive this?

  She clutches her clothes to her chest and takes a step back toward the door. I never hated anyone so much in my life. My mind is spiraling down different avenues and chasing different ideas. Was James’ cheating a crime of opportunity? Has he been seduced unfairly? Teased by her? I glare at her before she leaves. She shows no remorse and slips out of the office without muttering a word and closes the door behind her.

  What a bitch.

  “How long, James? How fucking long has this been going on?” I demand, turning my eyes to him, ready to explode as I wipe away the tears now flowing freely.

  “B...let...” He halts, pleading.

  Looking into his eyes, I cannot lie or pretend. The truth hurts.

  “No. No, James.” I shake my head, pushing back the surge of trapped emotions. Unable to control the trembling of my hands, the keys fall to the carpeted floor. “I’m too late. I’m not good enough. Like your mother said, you prefer blondes.”

  He pauses, forehead furrowed.

  “Stop this.”

  He closes the space between us and grabs me to his chest, as I wipe away my burning tears. He sounds so pained, so remorseful.

  “No! You stop it!” I stress every syllable, pounding his chest with all my strength. “How long, James?” I push away from him, and his arms leave me. I should have confronted him when I saw them together. I’m just as much to blame for this. I could have stopped this if I told him I saw them together. The things unsaid between us have been growing every day for months, for years, possibly the entire six years we’ve been together. But now, the secrets are no longer secrets. There is no need to talk anymore; his actions speak volumes.

  “This...is the second time.” He steps away and paces back and forth. “I...I don’t know. Work has been stressful. This new case is really complicated. I’ve been under so much pressure.” I stare past him to the wedding picture that sits behind his desk. Posing? Pretending? An involuntary sardonic smile crosses my face, and when I return my attention to James, his expression is that of confusion and regret.

  “‘I don’t know’? Why…Why?” I scream in his face. The tension rolling off him shifts and snaps; he’s completely aware that he’s ripping out my heart. “I saw you. You and her.” I sob. “With her. Lisa.”

  “I know, Brie. I saw the pictures.”

  “You didn’t mention anything about them. Why not?”

  “You’re doing it again.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  He takes a step toward me, reaching for my hand. “The pictures. You can talk to me.”

  “Stop. Don’t come any closer! I know what you’re doing!” I hiss, inclining my head so I can see into his eyes. “You want to make this all my fault. Maybe it is partly my fault. I trusted you. Some part of me believed that you wouldn’t do something like this. I’m trapped. I trapped myself under an oppressive veil of silence. We both did this.” I suddenly feel ill. Shaking my head, I grab a gulp of air. “You can use your tactics in court, but not with me. I’m not on trial for my actions. I’m not going to explain the pictures.”

  “I...I didn’t want to believe it. I don’t understand. I was shocked. I didn’t think you would do that again,” he says, his eyes fierce, tight to mine as he takes his own ragged breath of air.

  I stare harder, trying to uncover his many, many layers. But it’s pointless, like staring into a black hole with no end.

  He breathes hard.

  “What am I to do? Are you serious? Are you fucking insane?” I turn away, pick up the keys, and prepare to leave. I can’t take any more of what this is. “Forget it. Forget whatever this was that we had.” I wave my arm in defiance.

  “Baby, please don’t. Don’t leave. I did this to you. I’m sorry.”

  In this one moment of brazenness, I find my nucleus of power. I spin around, wondering why he wants me to stay. I’m trying to make this easy for both of us. The forced conversation is uncomfortable. My voice pitches as I yell, “Isn’t it too late now?”

  “You need to calm down, and you shouldn’t be driving,” he reasons as he tries to reach for my keys.

  “Don’t.” I laugh out loud, brashly waving my hand up and down in front of me. “I did this all for you. I wanted to surprise you with all your favorite things. I wanted you to fuck me, but instead, I just caught the love of my life cheating with some slut, and you’re worried about me?”

  His gaze is clouded as he stares at me without saying another word.

  “Really, James? I’ve been more than accommodating. Always accommodating, even when it comes to the one thing I want. A child. I’m still willing to give that up for you. For what?”

  My eyes tighten as I try to read him.

  “This doesn’t have to be the end. Two—”

  I hold up my hand, interrupting him, determined and strong like I should have been all along. “Tell me how you would feel if you caught me getting slammed by another man in my office for the first time?”

  “Don’t talk this way.”

  The tightness in his voice cuts through me, and I look up to his face and see the hard line of his jaw and the pain in his stare. From the stiffness of his body and the iron of his tone, he would kill and defend if that was ever to happen.

  “You can’t answer the question, can you? Does it make you angry to think of me with another man?”

  He falls silent, dropping his head to his chest as he clenches his powerful hands at his side. The mere idea of me with another man enrages him.

  The feeling of numbness intensifies, radiating from my toes to my brain like a glacier blanketing my body in a sheet of ice. My eyes connect with his deep pools of blue, his gaze turbulent and broken. Suddenly, I’m over it all. Over the lies, the half-truths, the veiled secrets. I caught my husband cheating. I need to know one last thing. The truth.

  “Why don’t you want kids?”

  He stares at me as if sorting out something in his mind. Silence is drawn out and there is a thickness in the air between us. He finally speaks, breaking eye contact as he looks away.

  “Didn’t we talk about this?” He sighs. “It’s just…I’m not thinking
about that right now.”

  I stare dumbly for a moment as the words penetrate my skull. I can’t untwist my tongue, my mind occupied with images of my future.

  “But I am. I thought…you wanted kids. What is it? Why? You never gave me a reason, a good explanation. I deserve that,” I retort, stepping back from him to get a clear view of his face. “Is it Lisa?”

  “Lisa…” He shakes his head vehemently. “Lisa and having a baby with my wife are mutually exclusive. We just work together. That’s it.”

  “And fuck!”

  He appears to have a hard time standing as if a brutal weight is bearing down on him. He rises to his full height and paces in front of the window.

  “I’m-”

  “Fucking give me a straight answer for once!” I cut him off, planting my hands on my hips.

  “Dammit. There’s no way I’m ready for kids right now. I’m too busy, swamped at work. I’m not ready. There, I said it, Brie. I said it.” His last words come out grated and soft.

  I’m burning inside, turning to ash, a powder that can be swiftly blown away. “What do you mean?”

  “I changed my mind. I thought I could do kids, but the timing is wrong. Is that what you want to hear?”

  No, that’s not what I want to hear! No! No! No!

  All I know is that I’m trembling violently, and my vision begins to get hazy with the tears raging behind my irises. My knees lock against buckling. My heart thunders from fighting with James and the reason why he’s been elusive about having kids. Revulsion and sadness saturate my heart.

  “You…you didn’t think to talk to me about this before you made your decision? I’m your fucking wife!” I yank at my hair in frustration as he takes a step toward me. “Don’t you fucking come near me!” I backpedal. Raising my hands, my palms land on his chest, and I push against his solid chest that houses his cold heart. “Why?” I gasp between a sob.

  Taking a deep breath, James mutters, “I want you to understand.”

  His statement pisses me off. I don’t even know where to begin.

  Why is he doing this?

  “What the fuck is there to understand? That you thought so little of me, that you made an important decision that involves me without talking to me? I understand that you are being completely fucking selfish and that you’re stripping me of the one thing I want because work is too much for you! Fucking another woman wasn’t enough! Is that what you needed? To sleep with someone else to deal with your problems?. “I choke out. “Life is fucking hard. It does not get easier. It gets more complicated when you shut me out!”