The Devil's Lair

The Devil's Lair by A.M. Madden

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Authors: A.M. Madden
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being ripped apart, snapped in half from her conflicting emotions. I’m angry you won’t lean on me, or let me comfort you. I’m angry you feel you have to carry this all by yourself.”
    She finally looks at me, stunned by my admission.
    I physically place her on my lap, forcing her to accept my touch. It’s always been enough for her when words wouldn’t help. After we spoke to Shane, she completely withdrew. I understand. Telling that little boy his mother is no longer going to hold him will forever be etched in my memory. I’ll never forget one single detail of that horrible task. It drained us completely of whatever we had left. But where I craved her for comfort, she pulled away from me. Her distance since this morning is torturing me.
    “Please, Baby. Talk to me.” Her fingers grip my T-shirt in desperation as I stroke her back, kiss her hair, and hold her tight. She buries her face so forcibly into my chest, I worry she can’t breathe. “Please, don’t shut me out. I need you. We need each other.”
    “I do need you.”
    “I’m here. Always.” She continues to cry into my chest, finally releasing the load she’s been carrying. Once there’s nothing left, she composes herself. I hold her face in my hands, drying her damp cheeks with a stroke of my thumbs. She continues to pull in shaky, cleansing breaths as she stares intently into my eyes.
    “I love you. We’re a team. We will deal with it, handle it, and figure it all out together. Promise me.”
    “I promise.”
    “Want to go see our kids now?”
    She nods and says, “After I apologize to Scott.”
    “Okay.” A pat on her ass tells her we will do that now. I’ll walk with her hand in hand to face our band together. They are also hurting, and we’ll be sure to let them know we are all in the same boat. We are all finding our own way to figure this out and learn how to accept it and deal with it. Until we do, it’s not going to be easy. Yet, it’s still nothing compared to what Paula had to face.
    That fact needs to be reminded and repeated as many times as necessary.
    When I slowly open the door to the room where they wait, the conversation halts instantly. Jen has returned, and they all look to us expectantly. My wife walks straight to Scott, wrapping her arms around him. He hugs her back, shushing her as she mumbles an apology. He rocks her back and forth, murmuring things into her ear that no one else can hear. She nods at his words and finally breaks a smile.
    When they separate, Jen says, “The guys filled me in. I already spoke to the studio. All three London shows will be added to the end of the tour.”
    “Thank you.”
    “You’re welcome.”
    “While we are here, we’d like to have a memorial for Paula. Can you arrange that?”
    “Absolutely,” she responds without hesitation. “I’ll get started on that.” She walks over to Leila and gives her an awkward hug. “Anything you need, please call me.”
    Leila meets my eyes over Jen’s shoulder. “I will. Thank you, Jen.”
    Jen pats my wife’s arm affectionately and quickly disappears from the room. It happened so fast that if you blinked you would have missed the humanity she displayed.
    “Wow, that’s new,” Leila blurts out, breaking the stunned silence.
    I can’t help but laugh at the look on her face. Once I do, she let’s out a giggle and shrugs. And just like that, I know she’ll be fine.
     
     

     
    With each day that passed, Leila became more of herself. She still had her moments, though. At times, no matter what I tried, I couldn’t snap her out of it. The best cure for her erratic emotions was the kids. They were the only thing that brought that light back into her eyes. She asked me to forgive her many times over. It hurt to hear her asking that of me. There was nothing to forgive. There’s also nothing I can do except to keep reminding her she’s not alone and I’m standing right beside her.
    We had an emotional memorial for Paula. Leila felt it

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