[b]Song[/b] [i]Past[/i] Present
[b][u]Chapter Eight[/b][/u]
[i]It was still dark when Dante heard his alarm buzzing from behind their bed, and his wife mumbled as she rolled over in her sleep. He smiled as he watched her continue to sleep. She made the bed seem even more inviting in her peaceful slumber, and he thought about what he would give up to just to stay in it with her. The sound of his phone vibrating against the coffee table pulled him out of his hypnosis. It started with a few short buzzes that signified a couple of text messages, and then grew into the longer and more demanding which he knew were a phone call. He jolted out of bed and quickly answered it, "Falconeri." He felt the happiness of morning dissolve within himself as he listened carefully to the other side of the phone. "I'll be there right away."[/i]
Dante had remembered when he had started to fall asleep with his head gently rested on his wife's thighs, but he found himself on top of cold tiles rather than warm and soft skin. "Lulu?" he called out in a husked voice. No noises rang out against the silence to answer him, and he realized he had been left alone to sleep on the kitchen floor just like she had told him last night. His aching body slowly climbed its way off the floor and he went to the coffee table. A note staked upon an empty pizza box caught his attention. It read, "I forgot that my reports had to be turned into today. I'll meet you at counseling. Leftovers are in the fridge. Love, Lulu." There were worse ways to wake up, but alone was not the way he had intended to start off the day.
[b] Yesterday, all my troubles seemed so far away
Now it looks as though they're here to stay
Oh, I believe in yesterday[/b]
"You look like you have something on your mind, Lulu," the doctor broke their silence. They had been sitting listening to the seconds tick by on his clock. "Why don't we start there? What's on your mind?"
She appeared restless in her seat with her fingers in constant motion from where they sat in her lap. "I, uh…" Her eyes moved to Dante's eyes and the awkwardness washed over her. She took a deep breath and then allowed herself to answer the question. "I've asked Dante a few times why he worked so much… and he never answers." From her peripheral she could see Dante shaking his head as it fell into his waiting hand.
"You asked me when we were both tired and hungry, and you let me pass out on the kitchen floor," he retorted without even trying to restrain his anger. He caught sight of her rolling her eyes. "What?" he yelled unabashedly.
"You keep making this be deal out of waking up on the kitchen floor alone, and all you're doing is just trying to distract me so you don't actually have to answer the question! You're the one who chose to fall asleep on the floor, and you could not have expected me to stay there with you! It's a cold, hard floor, and you need to get over it. And as far as waking up alone; you don't like it, but I don't like it either yet I always am. So tell me why!" With each point her voiced raised, and she was nearly out of breath after she finally began shouting. She had to take a moment to calm her nerves, and then continued in a solid voice. "We're supposed to be working on our problems to salvage our marriage. This is one of our problems!"
"Why are you hesitant to talk about this subject, Dante?" Dr. Collins interjected.
[i] The small hit Dante first as he had reached the destination of the crime scene, and for a small second his imagination reeled as it what could have caused it. It smelled the way sour tasted in his mouth, and was starting to cause his eyes to burn. It had been a prelude to what he was about to see. "And they just left the body like that?" Dante was working overtime to stop himself from gagging at the unsightly state.
"One hell of a morning, huh," his sometimes friend joked while pinching his nose and looking away. "How is the wife?" Ronnie continued while mentally trying to take soap and water to his memory.
"What the hell is that?" Dante couldn't take his eyes off the figure on the floor no matter the consequence to his nervous stomach. On the ground before them looked like pooling blood on a soaked carpet of a nice suburban home. In the far corner was a heap of red, purple, and white. It reminded him of the leftovers his uncle, a retired butcher, would toss in a special bucket.
"It used to be a girl."[/i]
[b] Suddenly I'm not half the man I used to be
There's a shadow hanging over me
Oh, yesterday came suddenly [/b]
[i]They had gone through great pains to discover the identity of the scrap heap as more and more disturbing details continued to flow in from forensics. It made Dante shiver as each new fact climbed his way into his focus and displaced what he thought he already knew. "Are you going to go home at some point?" Ronnie pulled his attention away from the photo.
"Yeah…" The fact that he was not paying attention was a dead give away to his partner that he had no intention to move from his desk.
"I don't understand what is wrong with you. You have a beautiful wife at home and an open and shut case on your desk. We just put a serial killer behind bars. I think you're allowed to sleep now. Particularly with a wife like yours," as Ronnie finished it became apparent Dante was still not listening. "I could tell you what I would do if I had a wife like Lulu…" He tried to bait him. "I mean, with a body like hers… the things I could do…"
"It's a wonder your life left you, Ronnie," Dante's callous words at least sparked a moment of acknowledgement. "Don't talk about Lulu like that…. In fact, don't talk about Lulu at all."
"Someone has to…"
Dante slammed the case file hard enough on his desk to shake it as he bolted from his chair. "What the hell is your problem! What about my marriage is your business?" He yelled and grabbed Ronnie's shirt in his fist.
Ronnie put up his hands open fisted, and responded through a calm smirk. "I'm your friend, and I was worried. You've been sleeping in the break room as if you live here. You're not a uniform. You're a detective which means that at some point in time you get to go home… I mean… when you're showering in the locker room on a regular basis something ain't right."
"It's my business," Dante disentangled himself and sat back at his desk. [/i]
"I was just focused," Dante dismissed the situation as if every other detective in history did the same thing. "It started with the Lector case, and after we closed it I kept getting more and more cases across my desk. That case made my career and I couldn't follow it up with failure."
"When… did your career become more important than our marriage?" Lulu asked with slow caution, and paid special attention to not sound accusatory.
"It wasn't more important than our marriage," he started and took a deep breath before continuing, "our marriage wasn't going anywhere. I knew you weren't going anywhere… At least I didn't think you were. I already had you, and this was supposed to be my chance to make it…"
"Make it? Make what, exactly? You're a detective!" His wife interrupted.
"So, Dante, are you admitting that you took your marriage for granted?" asked Doctor Collins.
"I did. I thought the fact we were married was all that mattered."
"But me as a person didn't? I was just your wife and therefore no long meant anything?" It pained him to hear her words as tears reached her eyes.
"No. Of course not, you have always meant everything to me. I was just stupid. I thought that you would forgive me, because you knew how much my job meant to me. I have been struggling to get respect at work after finding out who my father was."
"I don't understand…" Lulu wiped her eyes. She slouched over as her hands fell into her lap enabling her elbows to rest on her knees. "I'm really trying to. I just don't get it. How did wanting to do well at work mean that you could never come home? Or that when you did come home it was like I didn't exist or I was a burden to be around?"
[b] Why she had to go
I don't know, she wouldn't say
I said something wrong
Now I long for yesterday [/b]
[i]The brown paper bag that fell on his desk pulled his attention like a loud clap of thunder. "I didn't want you to starve to death," his wife said to him with a plastered smile in order to keep appearances. "I'm going to assume you want to eat alone?" She had softened her voice to nearly a whisper.
"Yeah, I'm kind of busy."
"You didn't come home last night." Dante detected the hints of worry in her voice. "You slept here again?"
"Yeah, he was just easier. I've got a big case that I'm working on." Dante stood up from his desk. "I really need to get back to work, but thank you for… this." He gestured to the bag. "I'll see you later."
"Sure," she nodded. She step forward to give him a simple kiss on the lips that she had not felt for quite some time, but he dove last minute to for a light peck on the cheek. Then, he walked away. [/i]
"You were never a burden," Dante answered quickly. He turned in his seat to face her. One of his hands rested on her shoulder while the other took place on her leg. She was still hunched over with her head in her hands. "I was the burden and I knew it. I figured it was easier for the both of us if I just stayed at work. I didn't know how to come home anymore." The hand he had on her shoulder started to lightly comb through her hair with his fingers while tears stung his eyes. In a moment of clarity he choked up and admitted, "I knew that I had messed up so much that if I went home there was a good chance that you had gotten so used to me not being there that you didn't need me anymore." He nearly ran out of breath. "I didn't want to face the fact that I had basically removed myself from your life… our life."
[b] Yesterday love was such an easy game to play
Now I need a place to hide away
Oh, I believe in yesterday [/b]
[b][u]Author's Note:[/b][/u]
More very soon. Thank you guys so much for being patient with me. I haven't forgotten my other stories either.
Thank you so much for reading and all your reviews. They are truly inspiring. Please continue. : ).
