Love Is Louder (23 page)

“How are you and James?”

Argh…she is so damn persistent.

I glance at my watch and hop inside my car, intentionally revving the engine so she hears it purr. “We’re doing great.”

“You know I’m not here to badger you.”

What do you call this then?

“Everything is fine.” I rest my forehead on the steering wheel, feeling lightheaded and overwhelmed. Closing my eyes, I try to draw air like someone is strangling my windpipe. Dots cloud my vision, blackness an old sore in my chest opens, and my exhale erupts into a silent sob. Parts of my life come back in short bursts of light, like paparazzi camera flashes.

“Brie, that wasn’t the case before.”

Opening my eyes, I sit up and say softly, “You need to trust what I say to you, Natalie.” I try to saturate my thoughts with all the positives that have occurred between James and me until our last argument about having a baby. “Things are better.” I pull out of the driveway. Still the questions remain. Why and how much more time is he going to need? How much longer will I wait? Does he want one at all?

“Good.”

“Is that all?” I stop at a red light, waiting with bated breath for her to ask her for the meds for depression. It’s improving since we moved here, and then with James’ distance, I tried not to think about it too much. That’s when the yoga came into play, but sometimes that’s not enough.

“It doesn’t have to be this way.”

“You really don’t need to call me. If anything happens, I can call my mother. She knows that. James and I are doing great.”

“All right, I hope you call her soon.”

“I will,” I reply before we say our goodbyes.

I toss the phone onto the seat and turn on the radio as the cool breeze blows across my skin. Natalie is someone that’s supposed to improve my mood, but all she does is remind me of when I was at my lowest point. I want to get rid of everything and everyone that was associated with that time of my life. I have moved forward and can’t look back. Depression starts stealing your strength; your thoughts and feelings are covered in a gray cloud of bleakness so that the sun is unable to break through, leaving no room for hope to flourish.

It used to bother me. I used to have to pop a pill once in a while, but I feel like I have too much to live for now. I’ve come too far, and I’m trying to get better on my own by keeping my mind constantly occupied.

James and I aren’t broken. I’m relieved he decided to work on us, but we still need to work on the one thing that matters the most to me. I won’t let it go. I just can’t. Or maybe I need to let him go to have my dream. It’s funny to think that meeting him six years ago was my dream, but six years later, I feel like I have to give up another. Life can be so unfair and fickle.

Ten minutes later, I pull into town and park in front of the yoga studio and head over to the liquor store to pick up several bottles of wine and window shop for something to wear to surprise James when he gets home.

With my hour almost up, I bypass The Mint Julep, a local lingerie shop, since James decided me wearing nothing is the way to go. I can always throw on some black stiletto heels to tease him.

Smiling, I drag my gaze to the park filled with children across the street. What greets my eyes shocks me to the core and makes the blood drain from my face, causing a wave of vertigo to slam into me head-on. My vision tunnels until all I see is my husband’s hand on the thigh of another woman in a short white sundress laughing at something he said. My heart lurches to my throat so quickly I feel like I’m going to faint.

A part of me dies in this minute. The air is being vacuumed out of my lungs as I stop in the middle of the street, barely avoiding an oncoming car. I quickly dash to my car, my eyes never straying from James or from her.

Who is she?

It’s like watching a horrible accident. One wrong action or situation can pollute what you’ve always dreamed of as being perfect. But, that’s the trouble with dreams. They’re only an escape from reality. Once you’re high on this illusion, life delivers something like this, destroying everything. Every action has a consequence. It doesn’t matter if you try to run and hide. It will eventually catch up to you. Doesn’t my fucking husband understand that?

Fighting back hot tears, I fumble for my keys. Finally managing to unlock the door, I throw myself inside as my phone alerts me of an incoming text. I don’t want to talk to anyone. I don’t want to do anything. But I do. Peering at the phone, I notice James has sent me a text, informing me that he’s going to be an hour late.

I wonder why.

Flicking my eyes back to him, I watch as he places his phone onto the bench beside him as if I were a second thought.

Is this my worst nightmare coming true? Is James really cheating on me?

After a few seconds of taking calm breaths, I pick up the phone and blindly tap away a message as manic laughter bubbles up from my throat and burning tears blanket my eyes.

Me: I hope Michael is not kicking your ass again.

My heart picks up, and my nails dig into my palm.

Am I going crazy?

No, this hurts. It hurts tremendously. Not like ripping your heart out hurt, but more like tearing out your soul, destroying and setting fire to all your dreams, bulldozing and burying them underneath the debris and rubble.

I need stop being weak. I need to find my own strength. Will I?

I swallow back bile while waiting for his reply, scrutinizing him as he picks up the phone while his blonde friend touches his arm as if asking whom it is.

“It’s his wife, bitch,” I hiss under my breath.

No need to panic.

Don’t do anything. Just wait.

I have to get calm, handle the situation constructively. I force myself to count to ten. Something that Natalie taught me.

One...Two...

My phone dings.

James: Just having a couple of beers with Michael.

My fingers are clutching my phone so tightly I can barely type out my reply.

Me: I’ll be waiting.

I glance up at him. He’s actually smiling as he types out his message to me. My phone beeps. I look down.

James: I’ll be coming. ;) Be ready for me.

Me: Always am. ;)

Sarcasm drips from my responses, but only I know that. It seems like as of this moment, I know some things James doesn’t want me to know.

With a manic smile, I calmly place my phone onto the dashboard and take a deep breath, even though I feel like smashing something.

What am I going to do? What am I going to say?

It could be nothing. I can’t fault James, can I? When I’ve been fantasizing about another man I just met? Does he feel the same attraction for her like I feel when I see or touch Mason? Will he act on it? Will I ever? I shake the thoughts away like a bad dream, which has become my marriage. Could it be true?

Am I making a mountain out of a molehill?

I need to do something, but what? I don’t want James to think I’m spying on him or that I don’t trust him. I’m just running an errand when I happen upon him talking to a woman when he should be playing golf, when he should be on his way home to me.

Will I? Can I? So we can fuck like the strangers we secretly desire?

Is that what that is? Do I want to be with someone else?

My eyes dart frantically around my car when I notice my camera sitting on the passenger side floor. A Christmas gift from James, it’s a top of the line Nikon D4S. How ironic that I’ll be using his gift to catch him in the act. Without a second thought, I unpack it and remove the lens cover to capture this moment, a keepsake for me. Perhaps this will inspire me to confront him or her or both of them. I snap picture after picture, each second, each touch, and each smile. It drives me insane watching my husband acting this way with another woman. I drop the camera to the seat when I’ve had enough of the petting and the flirtatious laughter.

Tears sting my eyes as I grab a bottle of wine and open it with my new bottle opener. I can’t wait to drown my sorrows and forget what I just saw.

Is it her?

Is she the one that keeps coming back? The one he keeps going back to? I can’t remember since I’ve only seen her profile and her long blonde hair. It could be, but will I ever know? Will James ever tell me? I pull the cork and take a sip of Shiraz, and for the moment, I get lost in the taste of the wine.

I wish I knew where her car was so I could slash her tires or maybe scratch a message across the hood with my bottle opener. Shaking my head, I refuse to think about him with her and take another gulp before I start the car to leave. I drive away from town slow enough to piss off a male driver so that he lays on his horn. If I keep this up, I’m going to be known as the crazy bitch that doesn’t abide traffic laws, but I don’t care.

“Honk all you want, asshole,” I rage as I roll down my window and flip him off.

You would feel the same way if you caught your wife with another man.

I don’t want to go home, but where can I go? I fight back the tears and head away from Destiny Lane, searching for a place that doesn’t remind me of how angry and deceived I feel right now.

Reclining my shoulder against the doorframe with a fresh bouquet of lilies behind my back, I watch Lily delve through her toy box and pull out a frilly pink dress. I was invited for some tea and ice cream after a long day of work by a little angel. I can’t think of a better way to spend the night. This little girl is my light.

“Do you need help with that, pumpkin?” I chuckle as I watch her brown curls disappear under the dress as I make my way to her.

“No,” she replies, the fabric muffling her voice as I take a seat at the white table set up for tea with her pink ceramic tea set Cindy bought for her.

“Are you sure about that?”

“I’m almost four, remember? I’m a big girl. See.”I witness her head finally pop through the neck of the dress while she wiggles her arms through the openings.

“Yes, baby. You’re a big girl.”

“This is my favorite dress.” She twirls around in the floor-length gown with puffy sleeves. She bows at the waist before she goes to her toy box and pulls out her crown embellished with pink and purple crystals and sets it on top of her head.

“Why is that?”

“It’s pink.”

“Pink looks beautiful on you.”

“Was pink Mommy’s favorite color?” she sits down across from me, picks up the teakettle, and pretends to pour us both a cup of tea.

“Yes, pink was her favorite color,” I say. “Do you know what her favorite flower was?”

“Of course I do.” She puts down the teakettle and picks up her cup, taking a pretend sip. “Me. Lily. Lilies are her favorite.”

“Well…today is your lucky day,” I say, pulling the lilies from behind my back.

“Thank you. You’re my prince today. Prince Mason.” She giggles.

“You’re my princess, baby. You’ll always be my princess.”

We sit in her room as the sun begins to melt in the sky, drinking our fairy-tale tea and eating our real chocolate ice cream. Looking down at the tiny teacup and the lilies in front of me, I realize there’s only so much we can tell her about her mom and only so many pictures we can share. She didn’t come into this world alone; she was not lost, but she will never have the connection kids have with their parents. I’m doing my best, but I still get angry knowing this little girl was cheated. She is ours, but I want to go a step further, possibly make it legal and adopt her. I want to make her mine so there’s no question whom she belongs to. The time feels right. I think I need to call Dana soon and get the ball rolling. As a paralegal, she should be able to help me find a good attorney.