Cosas Que Nunca Hable Con Mi Madre Novels & Stories

“Just the same thing that most men do, cheating on their wives and I am sure that I will never forgive him as long as I live. “Are you sure baby? Because when it comes to love you can never be certain. Sometimes love makes a person think with her heart rather than her head. You might wish to be far away from him but your heart is communicating something else. I am really not good at these kinds of things because the only woman whom I have ever loved in my life was your mother but it never worked out.” Now was the time for him to tell her what happened to her mother, she had been waiting for this opportunity but she didn’t know how to bring up the subject, at least the discussion will divert

“You two need to stop talking to my mother. If she has something to say to me, let her say it to me herself.” Only that she can’t. She’s not allowed here and I’ve blocked her on every channel possible.

Shutting my eyes tightly, I said, "There's nothing you can do. It will just go away in a couple of days..." What I said was true. I cannot do anything about it. Only my mother knows the exact recipe for the medicine she used to brew. And now... we are not on good terms. I basically left home. Going back to my house would only cause a disaster, with my mother getting angry at me. I bet she would probably turn me into a frog if she saw me. "We should contact Alpha Cosma about this, Nathalie," Killian said, but I had already dozed off and fell asleep in his arms.

my mother asks “Of course I do. My father is the father figure who has made me a confident woman. He is my safe place just like my brothers, Mother. “Then why do you want to deprive your children of that safe place?” my mother asks with annoyance. “Do you think he doesn't know because I don't want to tell him?!” I ask angrily. “I don't know, Rain! You don't talk about that man and you don't seem to want to communicate with him! You don't even show interest in telling him now! “Because I already tried to talk to him! She can't even talk to him directly because his fiancée answered her phone!” I shout and she looks at me in amazement, as the elevator doors open.

Hollis I take a full step back from Candace before my brain catches up with my body. We were supposed to go try to get some of the staff on our side today—and if the idea appealed, maybe have a private lunch in the kitchen, without all the pressure of a formal meal. Talking about Mother is… not exactly the opposite but far from what I was hoping for. I don’t talk about Mother to anyone. A few days after the funeral, Eva asked me if I was sad, and I told her never to ask me that again. She hasn’t broken that rule since. I have no map for conversations like this.

I grit my teeth against the urge to tell him to mind his own business and try to appease his curiosity instead. “My mother is a sucker for a sob story.” My voice grates every word out painfully, laced with anger and warning. “That’s about all there is to her.” So back off. “She has bad taste in men?” his voice is closer, so I walk further off, putting the distance back between us a little. Every part of me on high alert; my anger simmering to something more heart wrenching. I hate these kinds of conversations; someone trying to lay you bare and uncover your pain.

“She'll be really happy with this, dad.” He shivered and put his hand over mine. He sighed, as if he were just tired. “If you only knew, son,” his voice dropped an octave. “Knew what?” I was breathless, holding in my breath as curiosity built inside me. Dad and I never talked about mother. She was a forbidden topic when I was a kid growing up. Anything which reminded him of her existence or even just a ghost of a reminder could set my father off to a fit of cries, and he would lock himself in his room for hours or even days.

“Don’t you ever say those words out of your mouth again, or you won’t like what I do, do you understand me?” “Whatever.” She replied, rolling her eyes before walking out. I stood still in the middle of the room, thinking back to her words. Could I really admit that I was so scared to discuss such a topic with my own mother? I stagger onto the chair, laughing hysterically at myself. “What a pity.”

Maya said. They talked for another half hour. Small things mostly. Her mother's house, the neighbours, a cousin who had moved, things that had changed and things that hadn't. Normal things. The most normal conversation Maya had been part of in over a year and every word of it felt like water after being thirsty a long time. When they finally said goodnight her mother said, "Maya." "Yeah," Maya said. "Don't you ever do that again," her mother said. "Don't you ever disappear on me like that again."

I chuckled as I shook my head, “She’s worried I would tell the world about what she did to me.” Theodore asked, “I know I’m going to regret asking, but what did she do to you?” I answered, “You really don’t want to know and, to be honest, I would rather not go there right now. It wouldn’t do any good anyway.” He asked, “Do you want me to continue speaking with her?” I shrugged my shoulders and sighed, “That’s up to you. I’m not going to tell you not to.” My last conversation with my mother was the straw that broke the camel’s back for me.