I Miss Her Novels & Stories

I’m not here to forgive her but I’m here to make sure that she is still alive and alright. “And that she still has that smile on her face. I also want to know if she is missing me. I want to know if her heart is in pain in the manner that my heart bleeds.” It’s been three week and I miss her so much that words cannot describe how heavy my heart is.

“I miss you.” The best I have gotten from her is a scowl, a scowl that morphs into a sick smile as soon as the twins are around. And she’s all smiles with another man. My nails dig into my desk, blood rushes to my ears. She misses him? No, she misses me, not him. I am here pining for her touch, a second chance at our future but she is seeking attention from a stranger. I’ll give anything to be on the receiving end of that phone.

I missed her colorful clothing, her bright smile, her soft skin against mine, her warm presence that made me feel needed and wanted, and her beautiful, deep tan skin under the sun that made her glow. I missed the taste of her. I missed her red lipstick stains on my body. I missed her wonderful scent. I missed her begging. I missed her voice. I missed her moans and whimpers. Fuck, I just missed her. I just missed my girl. I missed her so fucking badly. I snap out of my thoughts and head out of the hall and into the location where I know Alexander is waiting for me with her. Fuck, I couldn't wait to see her.

“…then listen to me.” My voice cracked. “You have to come back. I cannot do this without you.” Saying it left me exposed and raw, but . “I miss you.” A tear rolled down my cheek before I could stop it. I didn’t even remember the last time I teared up over a woman, and yet, here I was. “I miss hearing your voice. I miss arguing with you. I miss the way you looked at me whenever I said something stupid.” A weak laugh escaped me. “Which was more often than I would ever admit.” The laugh faded. “I miss you walking into a room. I miss your smile. I miss you. I miss seeing you and despite everything, knowing that things would be okay simply because you were there.”

I miss her so much. . c.m. louden

And scoffed that in that moment, it sounded more than her death song, her farewell song than when she sang it to Marc back in Miami. She missed him. She missed those days and she missed Miami. It was on the brink of her life that she began to feel, miss the things at the fear that she might not make it. She missed her sisters, realizing that they hadn't even spoken in two weeks since Jacq had woken up. She missed them, still. So much. She'll miss her boys and her own mother. She'll miss Mexico but not Alex. Who was she kidding, she would miss Alex. And Marc. Had i said Marc? Because God, she missed the hell out of him.

I trace the lines with my fingers, hoping to feel a connection, a whisper of her presence that I so desperately crave. But it's in the quiet moments, the ones when I'm alone with my thoughts, that her absence hits the hardest. The nights are the worst, when the darkness seems to swallow me whole and her laughter no longer fills the silence. I lie awake, staring at the ceiling, replaying memories of her smile, her voice, her touch. I miss her voice, the way she would hum softly to herself while painting, the sound of her laughter that could brighten even the darkest of days. Her absence is a weight on my chest, a constant ache that refuses to dull with time.

But fuck, deep down, I miss her. I miss the way she looks at me when I embrace her in my arms. I miss the way we fight side by side, training until our muscles burn, only to end up tangled in each other’s arms afterward. I miss her kisses, the way she whispers my name when no one else is around or when we fuck like dogs in heat. And now, she’s gone. She’s with another. A cold morning breeze sweeps through my face as I walk out of the packhouse, rustling my dark hair.

She leans forward to whisper this, like it’s a secret. Oh I have missed this girl. And I show how much I have missed her by rushing up to my feet and moving towards her. She meets me halfway and we both engulf each other in a warm embrace. She is the remembrance that some people still know me, remember me. Her hug is tight too. She misses me too.

And she was looking at me like I was her world and, in that moment, I was her world. And when reality closed in and I opened my eyes, anger seeped through my veins, the sense of loss gripped me hard making my muscles terse and my butt clench. As fucked up as it sounded, I missed her. Missed her dry humor, missed her defiance, missed her snarky remarks, missed training and most of all I missed looking at her and having another me inside roar MINE, ALL MINE. The water soaked my hair, washed away all traces of Alaska in me.