Sunday, December 18, 2011

You don't know anything about love.

Tears sprung from my eyes and stained my cheeks as I stood in my father’s office next to my mother. My father sat in his leather chair, a cigar placed in the middle of his desk, the ash tray full. I had inherited my mother’s beauty, her high cheek bones and slender, well- proportioned body attracting any man in town, especially ones of wealth and charm. My makeup had begun to run and I wiped my red and runny nose against my hand, my eyes stinging in anger. My tongue lashed words that I quickly wished I could take back, my head pounding from the screaming shared amongst my parents and me. A large clump formed in my throat, as if I had swallowed an apple whole, and I tried my hardest to suppress another sob or keep my voice from cracking. Salty tears stung my chapped lips, and my mother’s stern look blurred beyond recognition. I wanted nothing more than to fight back. I wanted to yell and scream and tell them that they couldn’t tell me who to love; that yes, I loved him, that I loved Noah with my entire heart. But my mouth trembled and I couldn’t speak; my mother’s relentless voice repeating that I was never allowed to see him again. Angry and heartbroken I pushed pass my father who had stood up amongst the chaos. Flinging open the heavy double doors to the foyer, I scanned the empty room for Noah, panicking as my red and puffy eyes saw no sight of him. My blonde curls bounced against the side of my face as I shook my head back and forth, my heart sinking at the sound of the next set of doors closing behind him.

It was the same way I felt now as I sat on the bed across from Lon in the only Inn at Seabrook, prepared to tell him that as much as I loved him, I would always love Noah more.

No comments:

Post a Comment