Page 119 of Love Without Control

“Got us some popcorn,” I said, sitting beside Eden on our soft leather couch. My wife, always one for deeper descriptions, said it was the color of cocoa after the marshmallows had melted. Yeah. I called it brown.

Her eyes flicked to the television mounted on the opposite wall and then back to me. “I think this prosecutor is really sharp, don’t you?”

I could tell by her tone she needed my reassurance. “Her opening statement was excellent yesterday. She did a good job of laying out the case.” The case being the murder of Martin Love by my father, Luca Cappitani. “The jurors seemed to like her.”

Twisting the lids from two bottles of Dr Pepper, I handed one to Eden as the much-publicized trial resumed on the screen. Popcorn and soda may not be the most nutritious breakfast in the world, but I was fully in thefuck itzone this morning.

Our attention was glued to the TV while New York prosecutor Leana Wallace went through the forensic evidence with one of the witnesses. Leana was dark-skinned with a pin-straight black bob that hit just at her chin. Her dark-teal suit was perfectly cut, and she exuded confidence and professionalism with every question.

When she was done, one of Luca’s attorneys, Tony Russo, cross-examined the witness, making sure to drive home the point that there was no ballistic evidence tying the three bullets found in the victim’s head to Luca Cappitani.

“No shit. He disposed of the gun,” I mumbled, stuffing a handful of popcorn into my mouth. “It’s at the bottom of a very deep body of water.”

Beside me, Eden nodded as she nibbled on a single kernel of popcorn. “The key is the eyewitness,” she said, more to herself than me.

The next person called to the stand was the medical examiner, and that took up the rest of the morning before the judge called for a lunch break and announced that the trial would resume in the afternoon.

“Going good so far,” I soothed, wrapping an arm around my wife and kissing her temple. “Are you hungry?”

“No,” she told me a second before her stomach contradicted her with a long growl. “Okay, maybe I should try to eat a little something.”

“Go sit on the lanai. We can eat out there.” Though Eden no longer had nightmares, being outdoors still seemed to calm her. I was fully aware of why she was nervous. Our entire future depended on the outcome of this trial.

She nodded and rubbed the turtle charm on her necklace between her thumb and forefinger, an almost absent gesture she did when she was deep in thought. “Okay, sounds good.”

Once I’d whipped up a couple warm ham and cheese sandwiches, I grabbed a big bag of Lay’s potato chips and brought everything out to the lanai where Eden was scrolling through her phone. She already seemed more relaxed in the May sunshine.

“The first thing I’m going to do when I get back to New York is have a chat with my oldest brother about the company he keeps. Look at this.” She turned her phone around so I could see the Facebook picture of Auburn and a platinum blonde with huge breasts. “Her name is Magdalena. What does he see in her?”

“Big knockers,” I muttered around a mouthful of sandwich. If the narrowing of my wife’s eyes was any indication, that was the wrong thing to say, so I quickly backtracked. “I mean, not that I’m into all that. Don’t want to sprain a hand.”

She giggled and nudged my knee beneath the table. “I see your point. She is pretty, but she’s looking at him like he’s her own personal bank account.”

Avoiding looking at the picture again—because I valued my testicles—I said, “Probably won’t go anywhere. Auburn’s too smart to marry some floozy. He’s bound to get a lot more attention now that your dad is retired and Auburn is the CEO atBouvier.”

“Yeah,” Eden said, and I was happy to see that she was distracted enough to begin eating. “Monty finally got a Facebook, but it’s set on private so I can’t see any of his stuff. Auburn did post this picture recently though.” She turned the phone around again so I could see her younger brother in a police uniform. We’d learned years ago that Monty was an officer in a small town near Miami. I knew it was hard on my wife to realize her brother was so close and yet she couldn’t see him.

“All three of you look so much alike, especially with your hair dyed dark like that. Of course, you’re much more gorgeous,” I told her, leaning over to kiss her temple.

A pretty rosy color bloomed on her cheeks, and I loved that I could still make my wife blush after over a decade. Then she turned her attention back to the phone, staring longingly at her brother.

“Do you think he’ll move back to New York once I return?”

Fuck, she made my heart ache with her hopefulness. I only hoped it wasn’t misplaced. It would be up to the prosecutor and ultimately, the jury.

“I hope so, baby.” I reached for a chip, crunching the salty snack before peering at the time on my own phone. “Ten more minutes till the trial resumes.”

Eden stood and gathered our plates and the bag of chips. “I’m going inside. I have to use the restroom before it gets started.”

“Meet you in there,” I said. Once she was gone, I stared at the crystal-blue water of our pool and prayed to the trial gods to do their thing.

The suspense in the courtroom was palpable, even through the TV screen, as the prosecution’s main witness took the stand. Nita Malone was short with a full figure and strawberry-blonde hair. Through the questioning, we learned she was a twenty-four-year-old single mom and worked as a waitress at a restaurant adjacent to the alley where the murder had taken place.

Once all the preliminary questions were done, Leana Wallace stood behind a podium and smiled at her witness. “Nita, can you lead me through the events of the night in question, please?”

The young woman shifted in her seat and nodded, her hand fluttering up to fiddle with the long braid hanging over one shoulder. Eden inched closer to me, and I reached for her hand. I needed the comfort as much as she did. This was a pivotal moment in our future.

“I was, um, taking out the trash after the restaurant closed,” Nita started. “I went out the back door to the alley, and that’s when I heard voices.”

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