Love Is Louder (45 page)

“I don’t think you want to know,” I mumble in shock. Spinning, I storm into her spare bedroom, grab my overnight bag, and pull and toss every piece of clothing onto the bed. I don’t know what to do with myself. Everything I ever wished for is falling apart.

“I do.” She grabs my wrists and faces me.

Her hazel eyes flash with worry. I hold my breath and immobilize.

“What the hell is going on?”

“It’s James.” I drop my chin to my chest as she releases my wrists.

“What the fuck did he do now?”

I feel the makings of a sob building in my throat, and I fight it back. I’m not in the mood to cry. I turn away, watching the twilight spread across the horizon as my mind careens out of control and my body trembles with fury.

“Father…James could be a father.”

Ava’s face pales with her hand covering her mouth. I swear, she’s going to pass out, but instead, she takes a deep breath and looks at me.

“You didn’t tell me you were pregnant.” She stands in front of me with a bewildered expression. “Why aren’t you happy? Isn’t this what you’ve wanted?”

I bite my fingernail. The silence settles like a weight before I finally open my mouth to answer her.

“No, Ava. He may be the father of a four-year-old girl,” I say, raising my chin. My heart pounds. This news goes beyond anything I could have ever imagined.

How do you react to that kind of news?

She takes my hand and sits me down on the edge of the bed and brushes my tangled hair away from my face. “What the hell are you talking about?” She eyes me like I have horns growing from my head.

“He cheated with Mason’s sister. That is why Mason called me over. To tell me that James could be his niece’s father.”

“This is some rather heavy news to digest,” she says wide-eyed, her eyebrows shooting up.

“I don’t know anymore. I can’t take much more,” I stammer, shaking my head dismissively. “Who did I marry? An asshole?” I snap. Bile churns in my stomach as images of him with both Lisa and Meadow accost my brain.

Ava lets out an unhinged laugh as she stands. “Yes!” Her mouth is pressed into a flat line. She throws her hands on her hips with an added glare. “That’s it. I don’t think Häagen-Dazs is what you need.”

“What do you mean?” I manage to answer, meeting Ava’s gaze.

“Alcohol...shots. I’m taking you out.”

“I don’t know about all that.” I close my eyes, tunneling my fingers through my hair as my throat tightens. “It won’t help.”

“How do you suggest we deal with this while your husband is cheating on you and making babies with other women? You continue to stand by him? No! It’s time you thought of yourself, and do this for you.”

“I just need a little time.” With trembling hands and a thumping heart, I grab a pillow to my chest and avoid eye contact.

“Listen, I’ve seen guys like James and how they operate. Before you know it, Brie, he’s going to cheat again. He’s a pig.”

“I’m not in the condition to be seen out in public like this. I’m a wreck.”

“I don’t want to hear it. You need this,” she says, lifting my chin with her finger. “You deserve this. You need to do this. James is all you think and worry about. It’s time you let go.”

“Fine.” I acquiesce to a night of drinking and bury my head in my hands, too exhausted to put up a fight.

“Good girl. We’ll make you forget about life for a little while.” She chuckles as she hands me the bottle. “Drink up. We’re taking a cab.”

It’s been three days since Brie caught me with Lisa, and she won’t answer my calls. It feels like I’m walking over burning coals, swimming in broken glass. I’m alone, and I only have myself to blame. I expected to come home that night with my shit thrown out on the street and the locks changed, but instead, I found the house empty and cold.

How could I do this to her?

She knew that Ava’s would be the first place I’d go looking. She’s been home. Her overnight bag is missing, along with some of her clothes. I’ve checked local hotels and used every combination of her name and still nothing. She’s never done something like this before. I can’t say that for myself. This truth echoes in my bones and howls through the empty space in my chest.

I run a hand over my forehead, wiping away the beads of sweat. I need to see her. That may be asking too much of her. How the fuck do I explain this to her and make her understand? No explanation can justify my actions. My mind delivers this knowledge with unwavering confidence.

Of course she ran. I didn’t expect her to forgive me like before, where she believed my half-truths. It’s only been one other time I’ve done something like this, but it’s two times too much. I’ve always known how fragile and insecure she was, and I tried to reassure her even before Meadow. The counseling, the meds, I did anything for her to get better and to show her she didn’t need all that. She started to believe that, but you can never eliminate the triggers that cause someone to falter. I wonder if she ever did trust me to begin with. I don’t want to be the one to break her again and take us down a path neither one of us knows how to navigate.

I bet the whole yoga kick she’s on was some idea she picked up online during her research on depression. Something along the lines that physical activity will help improve your mood. I’ve conducted the same investigation myself. Yes, depression happens, triggered by the events around us and by our relationships. I don’t want to be the reason she spirals down that road again, but I wouldn’t know what she’s feeling. I didn’t see anything amiss, but then again, I haven’t been really paying much attention to her until lately. Or perhaps she is stronger than I believe her to be. Maybe the first time through taught her how to cope with disappointment.

I was at fault the first time she fell, but she won’t admit it was me. I think she was worried about what her parents would think of me if they knew the truth about me. Shit, I was worried about what her parents thought of me. They welcomed me with open arms and trusted me to protect and cherish their daughter. Brie blamed it on everything but me, so I went along with it. She couldn’t prove I was with Meadow, and I wasn’t able to come clean because perhaps I wasn’t ready to admit what I’d done.

Regardless, her mother recommended some therapist, Natalie, I think. She prescribed her Prozac and sleeping pills that she took religiously, but there’s no magic pill. Research says that pills are no more effective than those developed nearly sixty years ago. It’s like taking a placebo. It’s just you against your mind.

The situation with my mother doesn’t help either. They’ve never gotten along. Mother is always a trigger, a negative personality that just sparks the flame. That’s why it’s key that Brie and Mother have limited interactions with each other. My mother loves to find weaknesses in others and is not afraid to throw it in their face. The fact that Dad has been married to her for over thirty years amazes me. I’m sure working long hours and the constant travel are factors in why their marriage has lasted this long.

Dread forms in the pit of my stomach as I try to picture how I’d fill my days if Brie were gone. I can’t lose her. She was losing herself, and I was losing myself. Then everything caved in on me. I couldn’t take anymore. Work, life, and the idea of kids with her have weighed heavily on my mind, but they’re not excuses for what I did.

A soft rapping at the door jars me from my abusive inner rant. I stare at the open file with white sheets of paper staring back at me. Everything’s a blur.

How long have I been sitting here?

I haven’t completed any work. Cases sit in front of me, untouched. I can’t lose focus.

“Come in.”

“Mr. Fleming?” My secretary, Julie, walks in, placing several files and a hot cup of coffee from Starbucks onto my desk. What I could use right now is something strong, something to numb this pain I feel. That’s all I’ve been doing for the past three days, drinking until my vision is cloudy and my mind is a haze, waiting for her to call or to walk through the front door.

“Yes, what is it?”

“You have some clients.”

“Who?” I look up from my case file and glare at her. “I told you no more appointments.”

“Well, they said you’re expecting them.”

“Who the fuck is ‘them’?”

“Cole and Caleb Foster.”

My heart starts pounding.

Shit
. I glance at my Rolex that I slipped on this morning as I thought of Brie. I forgot about my meeting with them and specifically told them not to come to my office. This is my fucking fault.

“Tell them I’ll be a few minutes and to meet me at Starbucks.”

“Okay. Let me know if there’s anything else you need. I’ll be right outside,” she says as she slips out and shuts the door.

“Thank you.”

I just don’t have the time to be meeting with Cole and Caleb Foster. Not enough fucking hours in the day for this kind of shit. This is an unnecessary complication in my already hectic work life and failing marriage. Pushing up from my chair, I grab my suit coat and throw it on.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”I pace across the room and stare out the window. Life sometimes puts so much weight on my shoulders that I yield, bending so far that I crack and fall apart. I’d do anything and everything to purge my mind of what I’ve done.

My gaze jerks upward when I hear my cell phone ringing. I stalk over to my desk, snatch the phone, and inhale deeply before I locate my voice to speak.

“James Fleming, District Attorney.” I feign patience and control, barely.

“You fucking forget, Jimmy, the big-time DA? You’re slipping, buddy.” He chuckles.

Fuck, just another fucking issue I need to address.

“Cut the shit,” I hiss, recognizing the grating voice. “I have a shitload of cases. I don’t need you coming around looking for favors or additional compensation.”

“You know how important this is to us. We’re friends.”

“Yeah. Listen,
buddy
, I’ve got an appointment right now. Meet me later at...” I start, but I lose my train of thought when my eyes fall on our wedding picture sitting on my desk. I close my eyes, thinking the days aren’t going to get any easier, not until I talk to her. Guilt presses in, as all the air seems to get sucked out of my office. I have a bad feeling, a really bad feeling.

“Bull and Bear tonight,” he demands.

That is the last damn place I need to be, with Mason hovering over me, seeing me with this guy. But what does he know? This is my own guilt talking, all my secrets coming full circle. I can talk to whomever the hell I want, but I still don’t think that’s the best place to go.

“Fuck, can you pick another spot for this meeting?”

“I am not here to accommodate your every whim, Mr. DA. I don’t kiss anyone’s ass. I suggest you just show up. No questions asked.”

Fuck all the deadlines and demands. I want this shit all to be fucking over. My temper flares, creating a sick sensation in my gut, hating the idea that someone is dictating what I need to do and where I need to be.

I don’t have much of a choice.

“Fucking the Bull, it is.”

I stifle a groan as I enter the Starbucks to find Cole and Caleb sitting at a table tucked in a back corner, away from the rush of people coming in for their late morning pick-me-up. Why did I choose this damn place? There are too many prying eyes here.