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Julie laughed as Brian told yet another silly joke. She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed him in her life until recently. It had been very hard for her when they lost contact with each other but she was happy that he was living his dream.

So,” he began taking a sip of his tea. “Tell me about your Almost Prince Charming.”

Julie had to laugh again. As corny as Brian was, he was so funny. He definitely had the best sense of humor of anyone she knew. “There’s not much to tell.”

“What happened? Did his white horse have saddle sores?” he asked with a serious expression. When Julie threw a piece of a dinner roll at him, he grinned. “Seriously though…why aren’t y’all married and living in the suburbs in a cute little house surrounded by a white picket fence and raising 2.5 kids?”

Julie snorted. “Right.”

“Hey,” Brian protested. “That’s achievable. What happened?”

“I dunno,” she said with a shrug. “I guess I just wasn’t ready for that. Or maybe I just went into the relationship for the wrong reasons. I wanted to have this happy marriage and the perfect little family. The only problem was I didn’t want it with him.”

“Wow,” Brian sighed. “That’s deep.”

“Shut up, Duckie,” she poked her tongue out at him. “Well, what’s the status with you and Nicole?”

“I’d love to know that myself,” he said seriously.

“Ouch. That bad, huh?”

“Pretty much. She calls sometimes, but she is never home when I call and I always get her voicemail when I call her cell phone. Anytime I try and talk about us, she changes the subject. It’s really starting to get to me.”

“I’m sorry, Duckie. I feel like all of this is my fault.”

“No, it’s not. Don’t think that,” he said reassuringly. “None of this is your fault.”

After a short pause in conversation, Julie looked at her watch. “I guess I should be getting home. My shift starts at 7 am and it’s already 9:30.”

“Yeah, you need to get some rest,” Brian replied sternly before offering a broad grin. “I’m glad you came to dinner. We’re gonna have to do this more often. I’ve missed it.”

“Me, too,” she smiled.


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Bianca was lying on the couch trying hard not to cry again. The radio was blaring country music. This was her routine when she was in a terrible mood. She would always listen to country music and depress herself even more before she started feeling better. This time she added alcohol to the routine and as her mother would say, she was “as drunk as a skunk.”

The soft melody of a slow song began to drift through the room. She immediately recognized the song and couldn’t help but laugh. “Well, I’ll be,” she slurred to herself, her southern drawl very thick. “That damn song sounds just like what happened tonight.”


It took me by surprise
When I saw you standin' there
Close enough to touch
Breathin' the same air
You asked me how I'd been
I guess that's when I smiled and said just fine
Oh, but baby I was lyin'

What I really meant to say
Is I'm dyin' here inside
And I miss you more each day
There's not a night I haven't cried
And baby, here's the truth
I'm still in love with you
That's what I really meant to say

And as you walked away
The echo of my words
Cut just like a knife
Cut so deep it hurt
I held back the tears
Held on to my pride and watched you go
I wonder if you'll ever know

What I really meant to say
Is I'm dyin' here inside
And I miss you more each day
There's not a night I haven't cried
And baby, here's the truth
I'm still in love with you

What I really meant to say
Is I'm really not that strong
No matter how I try
I'm still holdin' on
And here's the honest truth
I'm still in love with you
And, that's what I really meant to say**

Before Bianca knew what she had done; she picked up her glass and hurled it across the room. As it smashed into hundreds of tiny pieces, she collapsed back onto the couch. She started sobbing uncontrollably and thought she would never stop. How did my life go so wrong? she thought over and over before she finally fell into a restless sleep.


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Brianna sat at the kitchen table trying to get herself organized. She had two lists she was working on; her Christmas shopping list and her wedding to-do list. At the moment, she was adding the rest of the people she planned to invite to the guest list. With a short sigh, she put down her ink pen and picked up the telephone, dialing the number to her parents’ home in North Carolina. Before it started to ring, she cut the phone off and placed it back on the table.

Brianna sighed sadly and put her head in her hands. She didn’t know why she couldn’t call. She had already mailed the invitation to her parents; it was the first and only one she had sent so far. She thought she would at least hear something from them. “They really don’t understand.”

Picking up her pen, she continued writing. She smiled when she heard Kyra sigh in her sleep on the other end of the baby monitor. As sad as she was sometimes, whenever Brianna saw or heard her daughter, nothing seemed bad to her at all. Nothing else really mattered anyway.


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Ivy was jerked away as the car came to a sudden stop. Looking around, she saw that it was completely dark and she could barely make out a small cabin-like house surrounded by trees. Before she knew what was happening, the man that had “arrested” her was jerking her out of the car. He didn’t care that he was hurting her and he only got angrier when she tripped and fell.

When he got her inside the house, he threw her down onto a chair and turned the lights on. “You don’t move, understand?”

Ivy gave a frightened nod and listened as he moved from room to room. She didn’t know who this man was, but she was smart enough to know that he was no cop. She strained to hear anything she could, but there was nothing but silence. Suddenly, she heard two sets of footsteps heading toward the room she was in. For a split second Ivy thought about running, but she knew that would probably only get her killed. Besides, where would she go? How far could she possibly get? Not very far.

She closed her eyes and fought to keep herself from crying. She opened her eyes when she felt someone tilt her chin upward.

“Ivy, how nice to see you,” an older man greeted in a deep voice. The same voice she had heard during many phone calls. He smiled and wiped a tear off her cheek with his thumb.

“Andrew?” she choked out. “What-why are you doing this to me?”

His smile slowly faded and he gave her a look of disgust mixed with pure hatred. Then, without any warning at all, he slapped Ivy with so much force, she fell off of her chair and onto the dirty, floor. “You mean to tell me, you don’t know why?” When Ivy didn’t respond, he grabbed her jaw between his thumb and index finger and forced her to look at him. “I let you in my family and you betray me. You have anything and everything you could ever ask for and look at what you do in return.”

“What about freedom, Andrew? Material objects don’t mean anything. How do you think it feels to have to report to someone where you’ve been and what you’ve done. I was a prisoner in my own home.”

“No, you’re going to find out what it’s like to be a prisoner. Then you can tell me how it feels,” he said before turning to leave.

“Andrew,” Ivy called. “Why don’t you go ahead and kill me?”

“Because that would be too easy. But don’t worry, you might just get what you want.” Turning to the man standing in the doorway, he pointed a finger toward Ivy. “Take the handcuffs off of her, but do not let her out of this room for anything. If she needs to use the bathroom, there’s one right through that door. There’s no way out of it. If she needs food, you lock the door and get it for her. Understood? I’ll be back later. Oh, and Ivy….Merry Christmas sweetheart.”

After the man had taken the cuffs off, Ivy sat on the couch across the room and stuck her hands in her pockets. Her eyes grew wide when she realized she had Howie’s cell phone. She remembered that she had it before she answered the door and just dropped it in her pocket without thinking about it. She tried to act as normal as possible, but she knew the battery wouldn’t last forever. She had to think of something to get herself out of there.


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Howie rushed into the police station and headed straight to an occupied desk.

“May I help you, sir?” A female officer asked.

“Yes!” Howie replied, out of breath. “I’m looking for my girlfriend Ivy DeMora. An officer just came and arrested her.”

The woman began to type something into her computer. Howie guessed it was Ivy’s name. After a minute she shook her head. “I’m sorry, no one by that name has been brought in.”

“Well, she was handcuffed, put into a police car and taken away. That’s usually what happens when a cop arrests someone,” Howie cried in a shrill voice.

“Well, do you remember the officer’s name?” she asked, trying to offer some help.

Howie tried to think. He did see the nametag, now if he could only remember what it said. Finally he remembered and blurted out the last name. “Travers.”

The officer began to type in some more information before a concerned expression crossed her face. “Are you sure that was his name?”

“Yes, 100%, why?” he asked frantically.

“Because, sir, we don’t have an officer by that name.”

“What?” her news hit Howie like a punch in his stomach.

“I’m sorry, sir.”

“Well, then, I’d like to report a kidnapping.”


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**"What I really Meant To Say"--Cyndi Thompson