Marta Cinta Novels & Stories

At 21 years, I had met two boyfriends. One broke my virginity and the other was an older man that really taught me what love was. For some reason, the one who broke my virginity was never what I dreamt of. Well we meet somewhere in a school compound while I was reading books in my high school. Hello, am Ben, am Martha, nice meeting you. You are my future wife, realy! Yes. The was our very first conversation.

I chuckled at her childishness. Meredith the heart breaker. " Like you'll still date him after you find out he hates pandas" " What! It was just one guy. And who the fuck hates pandas? He wasn't worth it " Her love for the fuzzy black and white creatures was onto another level. " Well too sad, the man is married " " Ouch.. That hurt" " Yeah, keep the broken pieces of your heart in your desk drawer. It's a Mr Reid, really tall, blonde haired and tanned skinned man and his wife is so beautiful, she's a red hair just like you " I was out of words to describe the couple.

I mustn’t. Hence, writing. I spent the whole day writing a story about a man who wanted to know everything and a woman who didn’t want to tell him everything. Love is not easy. Now, I get it. He’s probably just confused because he always sees me and he could see his doctor talking to me.

Marta left on a Sunday. She had stayed for five days — sleeping on the sofa, making coffee Elena didn’t drink, sitting beside her through the long silences that had taken over the flat. She had held her when she finally cried, really cried, on the third night, when the shock wore off enough for the grief to come through. She hadn’t asked too many questions. That was what Elena loved most about her — she knew when to talk and when to be there. But Marta had a life in Madrid—a job, a flat, a world that couldn’t be put on hold indefinitely. So on Sunday morning, she packed her bag, held Elena’s face in both hands, and made her promise to call every day.

She sent messages to the friends in the group, called a few more, and her last call was to Marta. "Hello, Marta, how are you? This is Lara, Lipe's friend. I'm not sure if you remember me." "Lara? Of course, I remember you, girl! You're not easy to forget, and I don't say that just because I'm a lesbian!" Marta laughed, and it took Lara a moment to realize that Marta was a lesbian. She had even thought Marta was interested in Lipe. "Well, I wanted to know if you're still interested in me for..."

Marta pressed a cool cloth into my hands, and I wiped my mouth, still shaking slightly, still mortified despite everything he’d just said. “Take as long as you need.” He turned to me, caressing my hair softly before he could seem to stop himself, brief and unthinking, the kind of gesture that felt more honest than anything scripted could have,making my heart skip. “If you need anything, let Marta know, she’ll tell me.” He left reluctantly, glancing back twice before the door closed behind him, and Priya let out a low whistle the second he was gone. “Okay,” she said, her hands raised in surrender. “If that man is just performing duty, I genuinely don’t know what love is supposed to look like.

Marta was eighty-one now, smaller than ever but still sharp, still exactly herself, and she hugged each of them at the door the way she always had, firm and certain. "I want to show her something," Marta said to Maya and Dominic, nodding toward Nora. "Just the two of us, if that's alright. Won't take long." Maya looked at Dominic. He nodded. "Go," Maya said. Marta took Nora's hand and they walked together down the road, past Ray's old house where new people lived now, past the corner store that had become something else entirely, all the way to a small church on the edge of town with a quiet garden behind it.

I always wait for Martina, not because I can make love to her but I can be with her. We talked a lot, we never ran out of stories or something to say to each other. Often I would tell her that I love her. She would just smile and kiss me. We would kiss passionately and it would lead to lovemaking. Making love to her is like being one with her. I would long for it for the rest of my life. No one in my life could ever surpass the kind of love that we’ve had. Not even the greatest

"Take good care of your brother, Ethan. I may not be the right age to be your mother, but your mother in the future must be proud of you. Go. Save the world. Please, send my regards to your girls back there, okay?" Then she let go of her hand away from my head and smiled. As we bid our farewell, the weight of the moment hung heavily in the air. Luciana whispered the most important words, those three simple words that hold immense power and meaning. "I love you," she uttered with utmost sincerity, her voice catching in her throat. Our hearts ached as we reluctantly stepped back, knowing that we had to return to our time. We held each other tight, finding solace in the shared sorrow of the mom

“Selena, I love you and I know you had doubts about my feelings for you, but please I want you to know that I love you very much. You are my mate and you mean the world to me.” I said. “I didn’t know that Muna would do what she did. If I had known, I would have never allowed her to do it. I’m sorry, Selena. For causing you heartache and making you sad. Muna means nothing to me anymore. She was something to me before, but not anymore. Not after I’ve found you, Selena. Ever since I met you and knew you were my mate, I fell in love with you.” I said.