Reminders of Him

by Colleen Hoover

It was my way of saying thank you, and I think he knew that, and he was okay with it. It had been two years since I had been touched by you, so when he pressed me against the wall and gripped my waist, I thought I’d feel more.

MY HEART

I want to be good at life. I want to make it look effortless, but up until this point, I’ve made every aspect of life appear entirely too difficult to navigate.

I’ve wanted to quit living it so many times, but then moments like these remind me that happiness isn’t some permanent thing we’re all trying to achieve in life, it’s merely a thing that shows up every now and then, sometimes in tiny doses that are just substantial enough to keep us going.

Her face is a work of art. I wish there was a picture of it hanging on a wall in a museum somewhere so I could stand in front of it and stare at it for as long as I wanted.

That should be my Tinder bio. Played for the Broncos. Owns a bar. Scared of eye contact.

I want good things for her because it seems like she hasn’t had a good thing in a long, long time.

There’s a double standard for women, even behind bars. When women say they’ve been to prison, people think trash, whore, addict, thief. But when men say they’ve been to prison, people add badges of honor to the negative thoughts, like trash, but badass, addict, but tough, thief, but impressive. There’s still a stigma with the men, but the women never get out with stigmas and badges of honor.

People say you fall in love, but fall is such a sad word when you think about it. Falls are never good. You fall on the ground, you fall behind, you fall to your death. Whoever was the first person to say they fell in love must have already fallen out of it. Otherwise, they’d have called it something much better.

But his friend had to cancel, and Scotty was sad, so I baked him cookies and we smoked a joint and then I gave him head. Best girlfriend ever. Until I killed him.

“I fucking love you, Kenna. I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone. I miss you all the time, even when we’re together.” That stuck with me. “I miss you all the time, even when we’re together.”

Something else stuck with me. A name. Ledger. The best friend who never showed. The best friend I never got to meet. The best friend who just put his tongue in my mouth and his hand up my shirt and his name in my chest.

She seems like a quiet person, but not the shy kind of quiet. She’s quiet in a fierce way—a storm that sneaks up on you, and you don’t know it’s there until you feel the thunder rattle your bones.

I had lost complete faith in the male population of my generation.

Can you help me put all the pieces of my broken life back together?”

“Something with her eyes. Who knows? She’s five years older than me, but looks ten years younger.” Patrick covers Grace’s mouth. “Stop. You’re perfect.” Grace laughs and shoves his hand away.

“I mean, to be fair, the woman gave birth to Diem. I think that was your warning.”

What would Scotty do?

“This isn’t about you. It’s about me, and I want to buy you something.”

“I wasn’t insulting you,” he says, his breath grazing my cheek. “I was just working through some thoughts out loud.” He presses the side of his head to mine, and I squeeze my eyes shut because he feels so good. I forgot what it felt like for someone else to need me. Want me. Like me.

“I am so sorry, Scotty,” I whisper. “But not sorry enough to stop it.”

“You’re just saying that so you don’t hurt his feelings, right?”

“Ledgerk.”