Heartless People

SIXTEEN

Kings kill for empires, madmen for applause.

—John Dryden

CAMILA

I knew it was her, and she knew I was awake. How could anyone sleep with her slamming the drawers of our dresser so loudly? I wanted to give her a baby update and ask her what had happened to trigger her anger, but I couldn't bring myself to speak. She was just pissing me off!

SLAM!

"We've been here for a week", I said. There is nothing in the damn dresser! So either chop it up for firewood or leave it alone!"

"Of course, your highness! God forbid I make you feel uncomfortable." She slammed the dresser so hard the books on top of it fell over.

Sighing, I bit my tongue, trying my best not to explode again.

SLAM!

"URGH!" I screamed, grabbing the pillow behind my head to throw at her face. She caught it with ease then dropped it as I rose from our bed. But she pretended that she didn't even notice me.

"You and your stupid fucking double standards. How many maids have you screwed, Lauren? How many of them still work in our house? I am not yours—"

"Thats where you're wrong!" She barked, finally acknowledging me. "You are mine! You are so hell bent on reminding me that you belong to no one but yourself. But thats bullshit. Its my last name attached to yours. You belong to me! And I belong to you, and the sooner you get that through your thick skull, the less grey hairs I will have!"

"I have a thick skull? You're the one—" I stopped, quickly grabbing onto my stomach as the movement became worse.

"Love?" Lauren rushed, grabbing hold of me.

"Oh now its love?" I hissed, pushing her away as I wobbled over to the bed. Damn it, kid, you can't be on her side already.

"Camz,"  she called, pulling me closer to her on the bed. "What is it?"

Sighing, I laid back holding my stomach. "The kid moved right after you left. It didn't hurt then, but it does now."

Lying next to me, she rubbed my stomach slowly. "Are you drinking the tea?"

"Ugh, I'm so tired of drinking that crap. But if it will help, then I will drink some in the morning." I was not a tea person, but the last thing I needed was more pain.

"When we get back to the States, well try something else," she replied, kissing my shoulder.

"I'm still pissed at you," I said softly, leaning into her.

"But I can't be pissed at you because you're carrying my child, talk about double standard," she replied and I was just going to have to let that slide.

"Lauren, I'm not ashamed of my past. Long before you came along, I had sex with-"

Breaking away from me, she rolled onto her back. "Ahh, please don't share! I get it. I don't like it, but please don't share."

Rolling over, I watched her face clench into a grimace as though She had smelled something ghastly.

"You will never change." I laughed, lying back down as music began to flow through the windows. It was loud, like a thousand drunken Irishmen trying to sing to the moon.

"Is that the festival?"

Tilting her head toward the window, Lauren silently listened for a moment before sitting up.

"I forgot it was Féile Na Beatha."

"The Festival of life?" I translated quickly.

Smirking, she nodded. "It originated as a festival for the Gods and Goddesses to mark the change from summer to fall. Praising them with songs while wine is shared, all in the hope that they would harvest enough for the winter. Now its just an excuse to sing
obnoxiously loud while drunk in the streets."