Get Into Houa's Mind

She ran a hand through her hair and realized her hand shook. He must have noticed it too because he took her hand and held it. Just holding her hand made her feel stronger and she realized that she missed him. She missed the moments they shared, the laughter that used to roar between them, and the memories they created together. Leaving him had created a hole inside her heart and it took this long to realize that no one had been able to fill it, not even Jake.             “I should get going,” she said suddenly, wanting to distance herself from him.             She turned to go, but he called out her name. When she turned back around, he walked forward and crossed his arms across his chest, making himself look bigger than he appeared.             “Tomorrow is Lizzie’s birthday. We’re throwing a small barbeque at...

The smile on Gloria’s face faded as Anna turned and walked out. She passed a few people who were trying to give their condolences, but she ignored them and pressed forward until she saw Jake. He saw her face and walked toward her, taking her arm and pulling her outside to the parking lot. They waited until a couple walked in before Anna turned toward him and shoved him hard in the chest.             “How could you bring her here? Do you have any respect at all? This is my father’s funeral, not an open bar!” Anna yelled.             Jake threw up his hands. “She’s with me, ok? Where I go, she goes. If you can’t handle it, then it’s your fault.”             Scoffing, she replied, “It’s my fault? Right, it’s always been my fault! It’s my fault that you couldn’t keep your damn pants closed! It’s my fault that everyt...

Anna Hoover sat in the corner of the funeral room and watched as everyone who had known her father came to pay their respects. Men in black suits with tall hats and women in fancy black dresses drenched in pearls shed tears as they came to her father’s coffin. She was feeling empty. She’d been crying for days now and it seemed as if the tears kept refilling. She was exhausted, beyond dead tired, and still people kept telling her things would be alright. Like hell they would be; she’d lost the only person who meant anything to her. She would now have to pick up her life again like she did after her divorce. Speaking of her divorce, her ex-husband, Jake Cutter, walked into view with a bouquet of white roses. When their eyes met, he walked toward her. It wasn’t that she hated Jake. A part of her still loved him fiercely, but it was because he didn’t know that the meaning of “I Do,” meant you kept your pants zipped except for your wife. So she was an idiot for marrying him when she did...

Thoughts of my mother surrounded my mind as I packed my last piece of clothing into the suitcase. Broderick was in the shower and I was cleaning up my things before we caught our flight back home. After last night’s love making, I still felt an empty hole burning in my heart. After I was sure he had gone to sleep, I spent the majority of the night crying my eyes out. My heart was heavy with the ache that I may never be able to form the same bond again with my mother. She’d given me a reason to not forgive her. She’d given me the truth last night and it had hurt more than the lie itself. I wasn’t prepared to face the hard fact that she’d never really wanted me or my father. She’d done what she did because it was something she thought she could get away with. Now, living the high life that she once knew again, she was happy while we, the ones who she created with her own lies, were paying for her mistake. I stopped to wipe my eyes when I heard the shower turn off. I zipped the bag an...

When I walked back out to the restaurant, Broderick was alone and waiting for me. He took one look at me and stood up silently. I didn’t say a word as we walked out to a taxi together since my mother’s driver had driven us there. In the ride to our hotel, I kept my hands laced together and eventually, Broderick pried one of my hands free and laced his hand with it. When we reached the hotel, we went in and once inside the room, I walked to the bathroom, preparing to soak when he followed me. I turned around and stared at him; he was already unbuttoning his shirt. I turned away and he came up behind me.             “Sweetheart, talk to me,” he whispered.             I couldn’t say a word; the tears came instead. He turned me around to face him and he held me as I cried into his arms. My father’s image flashed through my mind and when I thought about how carefree my moth...