Last Ride

This is the last part of my ‘Ride’ short story series. For best the reading experience, please read Ride and Second Ride.❤

I am ashamed of myself while he’s laughing his heart out.

This is always the scenario when our friends, our families and even our little kids recalled that fateful second ride.

The tale of that beautiful woman on his shoulder, apparently a complete stranger to him, has been a laughing matter for him, a shameful scene for me and a hit plot twist for our friends and family.

He never saw me on that day, and even the next Monday and even the next month.

Our second ride has been our last ride together.

As days became weeks and weeks became months, I have lost all hopes for a part three for our bus-inspired-love-story. I erased my fantasies. I made myself believe that he’s no way my soul mate. I tried to forget him and that girl on his shoulder.

It was a bright Saturday morning when fate surprised me in no way I have imagined.

I saw him in front of my house… talking to my Dad! My Dad! Like my scary-looking Dad!

My heart jumped out, my eyes went wide when I realized that he is indeed in front of my house…with a bouquet of flowers.

I have no idea, until now, how he knew my address. He said it’s a beautiful secret he will keep until his last breath.

But his courage to ask my Dad for permission to court me on their first meeting sealed his seat in my heart.

It took him a year for me to said yes.

It took him another three years for me to be his fiancee.

It took us a year to prepare for our wedding.

It took us two kids to give our lives’ new meaning.

And it took us a bumpy yet full-of-love two-decade ride on marriage to somehow prove that our story has no ending.

©2016 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer

Photo credit: Favim

Second Ride


This is the second part of my Ride series. Part 1 was published yesterday.

Wait! Can I get your name?

This is what I wanted him to say, but, he sadly didn’t. I fell asleep along the ride and when I woke up, he’s already gone.

I was honestly hoping to see him again but I didn’t, until it was a Monday morning again.

I was slowly making my way inside the jampacked bus when I saw a familiar hair, black-yet-almost-brown, properly combed, irresistibly neat.

As I saw his wide yet wrinkle-free forehead, his bushy yet so masculine brows, his dark and long eyelashes covering his gorgeous eyes, I was sure, it was him.

My heart beat too fast, excited to know if our story will have its part two.

He was actually sleeping, but he might wake up and see me still, right?

Until… I saw the girl beside him.

Maybe a year younger than me, with curly dark brown hair, pointed nose, long lashes, perfect brows and lovely lips.

She was also asleep… and… her head was on his shoulder.

I stopped in a corner opposite them and looked away.

Disappointed, I was not able to stop asking myself…

“Is this the end of our story?”

©2016 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer

Photo credit: Favim
Note: This was not supposed to be a series when I first published the Part 1 last year until  four of my lovely friends asked for more and they are Mandi, Christopher, Jacq and of course my ever consistent fiction-fan, Fun! ❤

Ride: Part 1


This is the first part of a three-part series. 

Buses are not just full, they are jam-packed during Mondays.

I have accepted wholeheartedly that I’ll be standing for almost two hours when I took the bus to get to work. Trying as hard as I can, I eagerly squeezed in myself in the already filled bus.

I heaved a sigh of relief when I finally stood in my little corner.

It was when a man seated in my front left stood. I am too amazed to react because hey, gentlemen are now as rare as a pink diamond!

He touched my arm softly to get my attention.

“Oh,” I quietly said as I look at him. (He’s surely flashing his pearly whites.)

I took his former seat, slowly.

When I looked up, it appears he’s looking at me too.

He smiled.

I smiled back.

“Thank you,” I said softly.

And that’s the start of our story.

©2016 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer

Photo credit: Favim