Healing Love – OJEBUBEOHA

Always & Evermore

Leave a Comment / Short Story / By O.J EBUBEOHA

Malik wraps his arms gently around my waist, pulling my back flush against his on the thin bed. He cradles my head on his arm, ensuring my oxygen tube flows freely and unhindered with our new sleeping arrangements.

The bed dips as he lowered himself behind me, placing a soft kiss on my bald head, behind my ears, and on my neck, just the way I like it.

A soft sigh escapes my lips, and I snuggle closer to him, winching when it hurt like hell.

“Are you all right?” he asks, raising himself on an elbow, his warm breath fanning the side of my face.

“l’m used to it, Malik. But I do want to see your face. I don’t want our time together to end with me facing away from you.”

Still You

Leave a Comment / Short Story / By O.J EBUBEOHA

We stood inches apart, surrounded by the well-tended wildflowers on his dad’s back porch, his eyes focused on every inch of my face as he had done eight years ago when he said those words to me.

Eight years felt like a long time ago, yet it felt like only a moment ago when he shattered my life and walked away without a backward glance.

“You came?”

My eyes fluttered. Hearing his voice again after so long made my heart leap. Tried as I may, I couldn’t stop myself from sniffing the air in search of his favorite Cologne.

“Yes. Your father was a great man and an excellent confidant. He stood by me even when you didn’t.”

Love Like Blooming Vine: A Short Story In Notes On Love And Other Stories

Excerpt: Love Like Blooming Vine:

Leave a Comment / Blog / By O.J EBUBEOHA

Love, I’ve heard grows like blooming vine. Slow at first it sprouts, but nurtured with patience and care, it steadily spreads its warmth like the Cypress on a powder-white trellis, adding color and light to our lives.

It felt like a tale carved out of folklore which was made up by silly, old elderlies to preach love and patience to little, oblivious children because I know better and have learned my lesson the hard way. The reformed me was smarter and more vigilant, ready to squash any distractions with the heel of my Louboutin.

Karma Lied

Leave a Comment / Short Story / By O.J EBUBEOHA

Staring deep into the abyss of darkness surrounding my little primed sorority-themed room, feeling the gentle caress of the wind on my skin, attempt to kiss dry, the oceans of pain on my blotched face and heaving heart.