C.A.K.E

Chapter 21: To Kill a Ladybug

After hanging up with Casper, Arden spends another few minutes in the solitude of the bedroom. This

end of the house is used a few times out of the year when her extended family comes to stay for

holidays. It's not likely that she will be found here. But on the off chance that someone wanders in,

Arden is in no mood to explain the reason she's sitting alone in a dark room.

She heads back downstairs to where the twins are sprawled on the sofa. The slight elevation in their

voices suggests that an argument is in the works.

Before things can escalate, Ardi positions herself between the two. They're a lot less prone to fight

when she's around. And tonight, she knows neither is ready to be on her bad side. Sure enough, they

settle on giving each other a couple of sideways glances without another word.

By the time the others have had enough of the humid night air, Arden and the twins are asleep on the

large sectional. She's lying lengthwise on the attached chaise lounge with the children strewn across

her like overgrown rag dolls.

Teagan is cuddled into the crook of her mother's arm with her head nestled against Ardi's chest. Rowan

is resting his shock of red hair on Arden's stomach. Her arm is tucked across his shoulders. His mouth

is half-open and he's holding onto her like a security blanket.

“Look at them,” Diane whispers from somewhere behind them. “They still want to be wherever their

mother is. Elliott wouldn’t even let me drop him off at school at that age.”

“As I recall mom, you wanted to drop me off at school while singing Material Girl at the top of your

lungs,” Elliott adds.

“Will you two quiet down,” John says, shushing them both. “You’ll wake them up.”

John and Diane say their goodnights to everyone. Arden hears their voices recede down the hallway as

her father walks them out front. As Adam and his wife, Perry, head upstairs for the night, she listens for

her husband’s movement.

Elliott stands at the edge of the sofa near Ardi's feet. She can feel his presence in front of her. There's

a shift in the glow from the floor lamp across the room when he steps in its path. Still brooding over his

sarcastic tone with her at dinner, she allows him to believe that she's still asleep.

Truth is, she's been sitting here with her eyes closed, trying to shut down her mind. It’s not working. So

she's made herself content with the soft sounds of her kids snoring and the comfort of their closeness.

Elliott could leave them like this all night.

She doesn't mind their occupation of her personal space. If she were ready to speak with him, she

would save him the trouble of trying to wake the twins.

He gives Ro and Tea a gentle nudge, trying his best not to bother Arden. The kids open their eyes and

glance up at him like they haven't the slightest inkling as to who he is, and snuggle further into their

mother's warmth. Eli tries one more time to rouse the twins.

"Rowan," he whispers. "Wake up."

"Ugh, Dad." The boy grumbles and turns away from him. "Go away."

"Come on, get up guys." He attempts to move Tea, who also groans and ignores his whispered

requests. "I don't want to wake your mother."

He might as well be talking to the throw pillows because these two shall not be moved. Rather than

continue to listen to his futile attempts at keeping his voice low enough not to disturb her, yet stern

enough for the kids, she decides to grant him the privilege of her words.

"It's all right, Elliott." Arden opens her eyes and focuses on him like a hawk sussing out her prey.

"Leave them alone."

"Sorry." He gives her an apologetic smile which disappears in seconds. The irritation in her demeanor

must be apparent. Instead of meeting her eyes, he glances down at his feet. "Didn't mean to wake

you."

"I wasn't sleeping," she admits. Arden runs her hand over Rowan's hair and gives Teagan's cheek a

kiss. "Just resting my eyes."

Elliott takes a seat on the edge of the sofa and places his hand on her leg. She pulls away from his

touch, crossing her feet one over the other as far from him as possible.

"Rowan, Teagan, could you give us a minute, please?" he asks the kids.

Arden gently nudges them. “Go on.”

The two make it apparent they're not thrilled about leaving her side with a few mumbled complaints.

But they still get up to do as their father asked, saying goodnight to both their parents. They head

upstairs to the couple of bedrooms that are reserved for the nights when a walk over hot coals is more

favorable than the drive back to Birmingham.

Once the twins have disappeared from the room, Arden and Elliott sit in silence. They spend several

minutes avoiding each other's gaze.

"Did I do something?" When her answer doesn't come right away, he questions her again. "Arden?"

"A ladybug landed on you tonight." Her statement is even-toned and measured.

"What?" Hard lines form above his brow as he meets her eyes.

To her, it seems that she just explained so much about his behavior in a few words. His seeming

confusion insults her even further.

She pulls herself upright on the sofa, sliding back against the cushions and farther from him.

"You killed it."

"And I've never killed a bug before, Arden?" He shrugs. The irritation flames in his tone. "So what?"

It would be ludicrous for her to be upset with him because he squashed a ladybug. It wasn't the act, it

was the motivation behind it. One of the supposed good luck bugs has landed on him before, and he's

simply let it fly away, or introduced it to some other surface away from his skin. This is deeper than his

cruelty to the insect kingdom tonight.

"You're letting her affect you."

"She had us both arrested." He turns and shifts one of his legs up onto the chaise with her so they're

facing each other. "I don't have the right to be angry?"

"Yes, Elliott." Her frustration with him begins to exhaust her voice, making it sound strained. "Be angry.

But don't lose yourself in it."

"Melinda was the first name on your shit list this morning." He throws his hands into the air and then

lets them thump against his legs. "I say two words about suing her crazy ass, you jump down my

throat. Make up your mind."

His tone and exasperated movements are signs of a growing irritation that he's never shown in his

interaction with her. What occurred today has gotten to him on a deeper level, and is slowly edging out

the gentle patience that made her fall for him.

They've had differences of opinion on many occasions, both can get rather passionate about their

positions. But their current discourse doesn't seem to be on the same track as those before it.

"My issue is not with her. It's with you―."

"As usual," he interjects with a sarcastic smirk.

Her hands curl into fists. As she takes a deep breath, she spreads her fingers and shakes them,

resisting that same urge from earlier in the evening. If he keeps talking, she might have to pop him

dead in his mouth.

"Elliott." She mutters his name through gritted teeth. "I am trying to have a conversation with you. Could

you be a little less of a smart ass?"

He shoots from his spot and strides across the room. When he comes back he tosses a pen and

notepad onto her lap. Then he stands above her with his arms crossed in front of him. She glances at

the stationery and glares up at Eli.

"Why don't you write down exactly who you want me to be today, and I'll get right on that."

She springs to her feet, knocking the pad and pen to the floor, and gets within an eyelash of his face.

The heat radiating off her is enough to ignite the entire house. He looks down at her, making the most

of his slight height advantage over his barefoot wife.

"I am so sick of your shit tonight," she spits at him.

"The feeling’s mutual," he retorts, matching her elevated tone.

Before she can unleash every combination of curse words that she can fathom, someone clears their

throat behind them.

"You two planning on going the full twelve rounds tonight, or can I read my book in peace?" Warren

removes the glasses from the bridge of his nose and studies them.

The volume of their discussion must have seeped through the paneled walls of his study down the

hallway. They were so absorbed in each other, neither of them noticed him enter the room.

Arden and Elliott look away from him like two embarrassed children and apologize for the disturbance.

She bends to grab her heels. Eli retrieves the discarded notepad and pen, placing them back on the

nearby console table. They mutter a goodnight to her father and take their misplaced anger upstairs to

her bedroom.

She reaches the door to the room seconds before he does, and deliberately throws the heavy slab of

wood back in his direction.

He stops short just in time to keep his nose from a certain collision with the door. Either ignoring or

forgetting that there are other people on this floor of the house, Eli stomps into the bedroom and slams

the door shut behind him.

The room is bigger than most one-bedroom apartments. But with the addition of all their volatile energy,

it's more cramped than a church pew on Easter Sunday.

They stand idle on either side of the California king bed and shift their weight from foot to foot like

prizefighters ready to prove they're worth the pay-per-view charge on the cable bill.

Elliott decides to break their stalemate.

"Is your little schizophrenic episode over yet, or should I find some holy water?" he asks, smirking at

her. A dark glimmer passes over his eyes. He's aiming for that big red bulls-eye on the edge of her last

nerve.

An idea comes to her mind and she doesn't stop to brush it aside. Instead, she reaches for one of the

heels lying next to her feet and sends it flying sharp end first at Elliott.

He ducks the shoe. There’s genuine disappointment on her face.

When she bends to retrieve the other, setting up to take one more crack at her target, he makes

another observation about her sanity.

"In the span of a few hours, you have managed to go completely crazy. Now that is remarkable." He

claps his hands and shakes his head in awe at her ability. "Brava."

She remains silent and still as a statue, staring at him as she seethes with anger. Her expression is

stoic aside from the single tear that finds its way midway down her cheek before it's quickly wiped

away.

"Whoever you are . . ." She keeps her eyes trained on the floor as she speaks. "Let me know when my

husband gets back."

With her head lowered, she's hoping that he can't see her biting back the other tears of her wounded

pride. As Arden sweeps past the man who has become a sudden stranger to her, he catches her hand.

"Arden, wait." He throws his arms around her waist and buries his head in the curve of her neck. “I’m

sorry, baby. Please.”

She stops but doesn't turn to face him. Grasping his hands, she sighs in relief that this power struggle

is nearing its end. The outside world brings enough problems to their doorstep, they don't need to

waste precious energy fighting with each other.

"Look at us." She gestures to the space around them like the tension in the room can be gathered and

thrown out with the garbage. "We don't do this."

"Two serious arguments in less than twenty-four hours. For newbies, we sure took to it like

professionals."

His attempt to dissipate some of the heaviness of the situation gets a small laugh from her. She slowly

turns to him, still snug in his embrace.

He kisses her so deep it takes her breath. The tenderness of his touch erases all sensory memory of

Casper. Amazing how he's so easily forgotten when Eli is in top form. After an endless stream of soft

kisses, he rests his forehead against hers.

“Forgive me?”

She takes his hands in hers, skimming her thumbs across his knuckles. His eyes are glassy with

exhaustion. She sighs and kisses his cheek, pulling him into her again. His arms wrap around her as

she nestles her head on his shoulder.

“Of course,” she whispers, breath tickling his neck. “Forgive me?”

“Nothing to forgive, my love.”

The care in his words is enough to make her cry. She shuts her eyes against the guilty tears and buries

her face into his chest. He rubs her back in gentle strokes and hugs her even closer.

"Let’s take a walk," he says suddenly.

"You want to go for a walk?" She lifts her head and gives him a tired smile. “Right now?”

"I want to walk beside the water, with your hand in mine.” He places his hand on her chin and tilts her

face up towards his. “And kiss my wife underneath the light of the moon."

The mental and physical exertion of the day has sunk deeper into her bones. Her irritation with Elliott

has subsided. Now she's conscious of every ache and pain in her body. She'll be lucky to get out of

those clothes without needing assistance. Though he would be more than happy to lend a hand. And

that would lead to something else for which she's too tired.

"Not really up to it right now." She squeezes his hands. "Rain check?"

He looks a bit wounded at the rejection. But he nods and kisses her forehead. It takes her by surprise

when he lifts her and carries her over to the bed.

Once he lays her on top of the comforter, he disappears into the walk-in closet and comes back with a

white cotton nightgown.

His hands are careful as he undresses her. When he pulls the sweater over her head and undoes her

bra, he takes a sharp inhale. She looks up in time to catch his bothered expression.

If her appraisal of the look in his eyes is correct, he's taking his time removing her clothes for more

selfish reasons than being mindful of her possible discomfort. Either way, she appreciates his restraint.

Elliott manages to help her into the thin gown without letting any other urges get the better of him.

Taking another lingering look at her, he heads for the bathroom.

A couple of minutes later, he emerges with a glass of water in one hand and something concealed in

the other. Two white pills rest in the palm of his hand. He hands the water and pills to her, which she

regards with suspicion.

"What are these?" she asks.

"Your pain meds. Figured you would need them after a day like today." He presses her to swallow the

tablets. His action is persistent, but not demanding.

They both know she doesn't want to take them. But only one of them knows why. And that's the way

she prefers it to stay.

Arden is in pain.

In fact, it feels like every one of her muscles has been sent through a meat grinder twice. The constant

dull ache, accompanied by the occasional sudden and sharp stabs to her nerves, is almost more than

she can bear. Please check at N/ôvel(D)rama.Org.

The usual soreness from a normal workday at the bakery is nothing compared to this. However, under

no circumstances will she begin taking those pills again.

Her doctor, Warren, and Adam, all insist that she continue to get the prescription filled under the notion

that it's better to have them just in case. Elliott just hates to see her in evident agony, and any solution

will do.

What she can't seem to get either of the men in her life or medical professionals to understand is that

there will never be a just-in-case. She will suffer through it in silence with the occasional cold compress

or heating pad like she always does.

"I'm fine."

Much to her shock and relief, he doesn't start another back and forth with her. He places the pills in

tissue and lays them on the nightstand. He strips down to his birthday suit, pulls on a pair of pajama

pants, and climbs into bed with her.

As she tries to shut down her restless mind, Eli skims his fingers gently up and down her arm until he

drifts off to sleep. She can feel the warmth of his soft breathing against the back of her neck, and the

closeness of his arms around her.

But as she lies awake, watching the hours tick past on the clock beside the bed, she's never felt more

alone.