Reader. Writer. Romantic.

Posts tagged ‘relationships’

The Colour of Her Eyes

Her phone rang.  Caller unknown.

She didn’t typically pick up calls from people she didn’t know, but something compelled her to do so tonight.  She immediately regretted it.


“Minnie, it’s me.  You busy?  Wanna grab a drink tonight?  I can swing by your place and pick you up if you want?”


“Or any night.  Look, baby, I’m sorry.  I fucked up.  There, I said it. I. Fucked. Up.  I should’ve never let you go.  I miss you so much and I want you back, baby.”

Three months ago she would’ve given anything to hear those words.  But that was three months ago.  She learned a lot about her own self worth in that time, to understand what it meant to love someone, to miss them, but to recognize that they didn’t deserve to be in her life anymore.

“Minnie, you still there?”

“Uhh, yeah.  Sorry, you were saying?”

“Do you think you can give me a second chance?  I mean, we’re only human, we all make mistakes.  You’re not perfect, but neither am I.  I made a mistake.  I’ve fessed up.  So you gotta take back, babe, that’s how this works right?”

“I-I don’t know what to say…”

“Yes, say yes.”

“Before I do, can I ask you a question?”

“Of course.  Anything.”

“Tell me what colour my eyes are.”


“What colour are my eyes?”

“If I answer this, I’ll get you back?”



“Whether you give me the right answer.”

“There’s a wrong answer?”

“What do you think?  Of course, there is.”


The colour of her eyes held the warmth of saccharine liquid gold on a frigid, winter’s eve.  Their lustre rivalled that of the finest obsidian.  And the way sparkled in the sunlight, like golden sapphires made them all the more beautiful.  But the one thing that set her apart from all others was the way her eyes lit up when she talked about her passions; they were brighter than fireworks on the fourth of July.

To call them brown was like saying the ocean was big.  It wasn’t wrong, but it wasn’t right either.  There were so many ways to describe her eyes that calling them brown was a huge injustice.  To the world, they were just ordinary, but to a lover, they were poetry.


Gone are the days of adoration
Novelty grew old
And so did I

No longer do you look at me like someone special
Like I’m the only one in the world

I’ve become your caregiver
A constant nag
Someone who you’ve become tired of
But a man such as yourself
An adult in essence
Should know the meaning of responsibility

When I’ve been strong for so long
When I’ve done everything out of love for you
Sometimes I just need you to take the inititive

Sometimes I don’t want to be the knight in shining armour
For once,
Let me be the damsel in distress


Be brave for me
So that when I look into your eyes I don’t know what fear is
Be brave for me
So I can walk through life with my head held high

You are the light of my life
You are something so rare
So precious
I never want to lose you

I love you for who you are
But I love you more for who we’ve become

Settling on Hope

We both knew from the start that things weren’t gonna work out
I guess we hoped that the other would
But life and love can’t be built purely on hope

Different priorities
Different places
Different dreams
Different goals
It’s a wonder we got together

We are such different people
It was never meant to be
But I’m not sad
You’re an experience I’ve learned so much from

You’ve added something to my search
And I know that I want a man like you in my life one day
But now is not the time
Maybe some years down the road
I’ll see you again
Each with our own families
And we’ll smile knowingly
Knowing that we made the right choice


Last night I dreamt of you
Holding my hand
And holding my heart
You’re the kind of guy
I’d wait forever for

In each other’s company
We did not wish to part
You could not let me go
As you lingered for an excuse

I held on as long as I could
I didn’t want you to go
As much as you didn’t want to leave

But in the morning I woke with a start
Jolting from this jaded reality
Still tasting your memory on my lips
Still feeling your arms wrapped tightly around me
Clinging to its remnants

Is such a love lasting?
Is such a love worthwhile?
Am I in love with novelty?
Or am I just lonely?

Do you wake in the night
Gazing into nothing
Thinking and dreaming
Of what we could be?


It’s a strange thing
The way you make me feel

One touch
Was all it took

I promised not to love you
I promised we’d just be friends

But oh how that kiss sent my head spinning
Oh how my head spun for days

Until our next meeting

Far more intimate
Far more …more affectionate

Yet I felt nothing
No sense of what I had felt before
My head did not spin
My heart did not long for you

I was not in love
Just as I promised

Conversations with You

Late at night
When the world’s gone to sleep
I lay here thinking of us

We did not exist
We were no more than friends
In my world
We were so much more

There was no one who knew what I felt
There was so much isolation
So much loneliness before I met you

Slowly, you showed me it was ok
To believe in my heart
To follow my dreams

Slowly, morals corroded
Pleasure filled my days

And despite the exhaustion and pain
I longed for the conversations with you

A Woman’s Words

It was exactly as she said
As I headed out the door
The tone of bitterness
Full of deep regret

Each and every outing
Etched with vexatious war

I cannot have my freedom
Though I have ever always loved you
You are the only one, ever loved and respected
Yet in your jealousy, you  hold me back
You take advantage of my love
And use it to cage me up
And yet I return to you always

Like a dehydrated fool in the desert
To the hot miraged metal sea
Burning my hands and feet
Burning my tongue and lips
To get the sweet taste of long forgotten eau

Tonight I decided
My final decision is made

No longer will I be bound
By your jealous vines
I will not be held back
By your passive aggressive permission

Memories of Her

His phone buzzed rattling on the nightstand.

“Are you going to get that?” she called to him.

“Could you get it for me?” he called back.

“Sure,” she said picking up the phone and looking at the message.

She made her way to the kitchen, reading as she went.

“Who is it?” he asked.

“Kevin, he’s asking if you’re going to the game on Friday,”  she read.

He shook his head, “Mind texting him back and letting him know that I have a work function to go to?”

“Okay,” she nodded. She scrolled through his phone after texting back a reply, frowning.

“What?” he asked, cuddling up to her, spatula in hand.

“The DNA test confirmed you were the father?” she repeated.

“I…” he said.

“Do you have something to tell me Bryce?” she asked raising an eyebrow.

“Can you promise to let me finish before you get mad?” Bryce said timidly.

She put down his phone and nodded. He made his way back to the stove to make sure that nothing was burning.

“So a few years ago, when I was still dating your sister there was girl who was stalking me. She would follow me everywhere, leave me flowers, chocolates and suggestive messages. That really put a strain on my relationship with your sister and eventually we broke up, but between me dating you and me breaking up with your sister she really amped up her crazy antics. She started calling me and waited for me outside of my house, my classes, my workplace,” started Bryce.

“So are you really the father of anyone?” she asked.

Bryce struggled with himself for a few minutes, “Yes and no.”

She nodded at him encouragingly.

“You have to understand this is really hard for me, babe,” said Bryce wincing.

She put her arm around him and leaned in for a kiss.

“What happened?” she asked gently.

“Well I was being irresponsible and we ended up in bed together. A few weeks later she calls me and tells me that she’s pregnant with my child and I lost it. If she wasn’t crazy before, she was now. I applied for a restraining order against her and got it. I had my number changed, I moved and everything, but somehow she still found me. She texted me shortly after the child was born telling me that it was mine…” explained Bryce.

“Is that the truth?” she confirmed.

“It’s the truth,” repeated Bryce.

She nodded and headed off to set the table. He stared after her wondering if she believed him.

Prompt: Write about the message she found on his phone

Moving on

His picture framed sat on my desk as it had for two years. I couldn’t bear to look at it, but equally could not bear to have it removed. He had meant something to me once, but now he was dead and gone. Moved on with his life. He was probably somewhere in the world, happily married, enjoying a cool refreshing beer on the sunset beaches of Hawaii. I could only imagine how great his life had become as mine dwindled to nothing. I wasn’t bitter. It was for the best. But yet it hurt and I found it hard to move on.

It was late on Friday night, I had expected that all the younger employees and clerks had gone home or out to party. For that reason I loved working Friday nights, it was in fact the only evening I could work undisturbed. But tonight was different. Of course it had to be. I had looked at his picture. I had wondered about him. I had speculated on his wonderful life abroad. How could tonight be the same after all that?

“Alice? You still here?” called Maximilian, my senior partner, sticking his head in my office.

“Yes,” I returned.

“Do you have a moment?” he asked.

I nodded, clearing away my notes for my latest case.

“Done? I can file it for you if you are,” he offered.

“What’s up, Max?” I asked, cutting to the chase.

“There’s a client here to see you. I offered to take him, I know you’ve been busy as of late, but he refused. He insisted that he must see you and that it was urgent. So, if you’d like, I’ll file those for you,” recounted Maximilian.

“That would be nice, thank you,” I nodded, “Show him in. Or get a clerk to if any are still around.”

Maximilian smiled, “No, they’ve all gone off to some bar for the night.”

I returned his smile, “Then if you don’t mind.”

Maximilian nodded, I handed him the file, and he headed down the hall into the waiting room. I only had to wait for a few minutes before I heard a soft knock against the hard oak door.

“Come in,” I said.

The knocker hesitantly pushed his way in. It was him.

“Christian-I, what can I do for you?” I asked standing, though caught off guard.

“Good evening Alice, I’m sorry if this is a bad time. I was hoping you could help me with a situation,” started Christian, looking visibly distressed.

“Please, have a seat. I would offer you some coffee, but it’s a bit late for that. Can I get you something else perhaps? Water?” I offered.

Christian sat, shaking his head and played with his fingers the way he used to in high school.

“I’m sorry I never called…that I never tried after…” began Christian, licking his lips.

“Please, don’t make this more uncomfortable that this already is. What is your situation? I will do my best to assist you,” I said, cutting him short.

“Do you remember Alana?” said Christian.

“How could I forget? She was my best friend,” I returned.

I knew where this was going.

“Last month I asked her to marry me. Spent a fortune on her ring, nearly $3 million…the problem is…is that well it was a fake. When I bought it for her it was most certainly real, now some time between the purchase and my proposal, it must have been stolen. It’s the only explanation! She’s had the ring on the entire time, no one could have taken it from her finger and switched it. The only logical explanation is that it was stolen in the time I was contemplating the proposal after its purchase,” said Christian agitated.

“Who had access to the ring?” I asked, pulling out a spare notebook.

“No one,” answered Christian, “No one else knew I was going to propose. It was an impromptu kind of thing. I was just walking back to the office from lunch when it caught my eye and I though that I had to have it. That it was finally time to ask her to marry me.”

“The jeweler would have known,” I said dryly.

“Yes, well, why would he steal it?!” exclaimed Christian.

“To swindle you out of $3 million,” I stated.

“So you think he never put the real ring into the box and instead gave me the fake?” asked Christian.

“Did he put the ring in the box in front of you?” I asked.

Christian frowned, “I’m not sure. I was too hyped up on excitement to be positive about seeing him put the ring away in front of me or not.”

“Does Alana know?” I inquired.

Christian shook his head, “I don’t think she does. I don’t think she can tell the difference between genuine and imitation diamonds.”

“What’s the catch?” I sighed.

“Well she was completely oblivious until one of her coworkers pointed out that it was cheap plastic and then she lost it on me. She accused me of insulting her intelligence by claiming a piece of plastic to be a $3 million ring. I was absolutely appalled and upon re-examination was horrified that she didn’t have the ring I had purchased,” said Christian, “Do you think you can find it?”

I looked over my notes; I had some ideas, some places to start.

I shrugged, “You know it’s a Friday night right?”

“Please Alice. I’ll pay anything you ask. I’ll pay you double any price you’re accustomed to getting,” begged Christian.

“I’ll think about it. I’ll call you in the morning Christian,” I said firmly.

Christian nodded, still upset, but was powerless to do anything else. He rose, still dazed and headed out the door. I looked back down at my notes and when I looked up again found Christian lingering in the doorway.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“Nothing, I just…forgot to say good night to you,” said Christian.

I smiled, “Good night Christian.”


The next morning I headed back down to the office and found Maximilian was already working away on the case file.

“Excuse me? Did you go into my office without my permission?” I said.

“Sorry, it sounded like an interesting case,” apologized Maximilian.

“He was my ex…” I said.

“Oh…my God, I’m so sorry. Did you want to say no?” Maximilian said, thoroughly embarrassed.

I laughed, shaking my head, “No, you’re right, this is an interesting case. Tell me what you’ve found.”

“Shouldn’t you call him?” asked Maximilian raising an eyebrow.

“Brief me first,” I said.

“Ok, so I’ve called up our private detective, he’s out digging up information on Alana and Christian. Both on their relationship as well as their personal lives. Is there anything you want to add?” explained Maximilian.

“That’s it?” I asked unimpressed.

“I came in five minutes ago!” exclaimed Maximilian defensively.

“Oh, well, good job then,” I laughed.

I called Christian telling him that I would take the case; he was overjoyed.

“What do I know? Well Christian and I started dating when I was in grade 10 and he was in grade 11. He was everything you could ever hope for in a boyfriend, loving, attentive, rich,” I started, “We were always thought of as the couple most likely to succeed. Well, that clearly fell apart because on the evening of my graduation I found him in the bathroom having sex with my best friend…it…it was hard…”

Maximilian looked at me sympathetically, but said nothing to comfort me.

“That was Alana. I was more hurt by it than I was angry. I left in a cab and the next day, well…they both tried to apologize to me saying that they were drunk and didn’t know what they were doing, but I knew better. There had been no alcohol and neither of them were smart enough to smuggle any into their systems. I was in a hard spot because I was pregnant with Christian’s child. He had promised everything would be taken care of that he would be there for me and stuff, but then he and Alana-and I just told them it didn’t matter. That I would be alright by myself,” I continued, “They believed my lie. They moved on together and two months after my graduation I gave birth to a baby boy. I barely had time to acclimatize before I had to start university. But Christian kept his word and started paying child support once he received news of the birth of his child. Yeah, it was arranged through the courts and stuff, but he’s never missed a payment. He never comes to visit Valentine, but has no problem paying extravagant amounts of money…”

“Was Alana ever upset that you had Christian’s child?” asked Maximilian.

I nodded, “Alana can’t have children and Christian’s always wanted to have children…I mean they’ve discussed other options, but Alana has always been upset about artificial mean of producing a child.”

“How did Alana come off as to you? Smart? Stupid? Slut?” inquired Maximilian.

“She was decent. Not a genius, but she had a brain,” I said.

“Could she have been able to tell the difference between plastic and a diamond?” pressed Maximilian.

“Yes,” I answered, “She’s not that stupid.”

“That’s what I thought. We’ll wait for our detective to get back to us,” nodded Maximilian.


“Yes? Ok, thank you, yes, ok, thanks, bye,” said Maximilian hanging up the phone.

“Well?” I asked expectantly.

“It’s as we thought; Alana is more than she appears to be. She has been involved in no less than fourteen hundred black market sales of rare and expensive goods,” started Maximilian.

“Fourteen hundred?!” I exclaimed, dumbstruck.

Maximilian nodded, “The latest sale?”

“No way…” I said in disbelief.

“Yes,” agreed Maximilian.

“Why?” I asked, utterly confused.

“Because she needs the money to support her drug habit and husband in France,” answered Maximilian.

“Kay, hold up a sec, where the heck is our detective getting this information?! This does not sound reliable,” I interjected.

“Yeah, the drugs sounds a bit fishy,” agreed Maximilian.

“So does the husband!” I said.

“Apparently that one checks out. Our detective called up the husband in France and he confirms that Alana Conners is indeed his wife,” countered Maximilian.

“But the drugs?” I asked.

“Might be a cover,” suggested Maximilian.

I nodded slowly, “Maybe it’s time to call Christian in and ask him some questions.


“WHAT?!” exclaimed Christian, “No, show me some proof.”

“Does a facsimile work for you?” asked Maximilian.

“What’s it of?” questioned Christian.

“Her marriage certificate,” said Maximilian, handing him the fax.

Christian sank into a chair as he read the names on the certificate.

“It can’t be…I can’t believe it. Alice did you know?” said Christian, repeating himself several times.

I shook my head, “This was all news to me. Apparently, she has three kids with this guy, so that thing she told you about not being able to reproduce…that’s all a lie. You see her youngest requires some very expensive treatment for her cystic fibrosis and their family can’t afford it. What better way than to cozy up to a nice rich gentleman and sell everything he gives you and everything he owns to pay for your daughter’s treatment?”

“Oh my God…I thought…I thought that it was my staff. It was her all along? And the ring? She sold the ring?” asked Christian, still having a hard time taking it all in.

“Yeah, I’m really sorry Christian…I wouldn’t have wished this on anyone,” I apologized.

Christian lapsed into a silence.

“I’m sorry Alice for having to put you through all this,” he said at last, “Stirring up old feuds is never fun. I never should have said those things to you, never should have said good bye…I couldn’t see the good I had until I lost it…oh Alice…I’m so sorry.”

“You can stop apologizing, Christian. Valentine and I have grown accustomed to our lifestyle and you’ve always been good in supporting him in whatever he does,” I said gently.

“Do you ever think I could ever be a part of your life again?” asked Christian timidly.

I shook my head, “I’m sorry Christian. You broke my heart once, I’m not about to let it happen again. But for Valentine’s sake you can have your visitation rights back. That is, if you want them. I think he deserves to know who his father is.”

Christian nodded sadly, “I have a lot of regrets, Alice. You are one of them. I will never be able to replace the moments I’ve taken away from you and Valentine. And I can never repair what I’ve done to you. But you’re right, Valentine deserves a father and despite all that I’ve done wrong I’m determined to make things right, especially for him.”

Christian rose, heading towards the door.

“I’ll see you in court on Monday then?” I called to him.

“You’ve got it, nine A.M. sharp,” smiled Christian calling back over his shoulder, “For Valentine.”

Prompt: Write the story of the words that broke your heart.

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