This Is My Love

5. New chapter: This Is My Love
Bruno Mars Fan Fiction

"I'm leaving you." Pete stood at the front door of our house, suitcases on the floor by his feet. I couldn't leave my spot outside the foyer, my feet were too heavy. I seemed to be drowning in my own tears and my heartbeat was deafening in my ears.
"I thought you loved me!" I screamed, but my voice wasn't powerful. It was pitiful. Hopeless and sad. He laughed at me.
"I love her now." And from outside of the door a beautiful woman walked in. She was tall, taller than Pete or me, and had long, shiny locks of hair and big, beautiful eyes. But what was most shocking was her stomach. It was big and round and protruding from her tube top.
"We're going to be a family," the woman spoke happily as she kissed Pete on the cheek. I tried to scream out again, but only a whimper came. Pete smiled fondly at the woman beside him and placed his hand on her stomach.
"Take care of yourselves," Pete spoke in a very insincere voice.
"Ourselves?" I asked. I looked down to my own stomach to see it moving. Little arms and legs pushed against my skin, stretching and flexing. I gasped audibly before looking up to find Pete and his suitcases gone.

I woke up in a cold sweat, my chest heaving and tears streaming down my face. I shoved the covers off of my body and looked down at my stomach, pulling up my tank top and smoothing my hands over the flat surface.
"Jesus," I breathed as I tried to calm myself down. A lot of people in Hawaii believed that dreams were a sign, and if that was so, I was afraid what that sign was. I've always believed they were just our thoughts and fears come to life in our mind, which would explain a lot, except my pregnant belly in the dream. I hadn't had a pregnancy scare, and I sure as hell couldn't be two months pregnant, because that's how long it's been since Pete and I made love. I shook my head, trying to rid myself of these thoughts and dismiss it as just a very scary dream.

I walked into the kitchen to find my Dad sitting at the table, drinking coffee and reading our local newspaper. I plopped down in the chair across from him and put my elbows on the table, resting my chin in my hands.
"Hey there, honeydew. How'd you sleep?" He asked me, using his fatherly pet name for me. I shook my head and sighed, not being able to stop thinking about the dream. It was so vivid, I couldn't help but to have it at the front of my mind. "That bad, huh? I'm sorry, Ano, I know this has been hard." He folded his newspaper and placed it down in front of him as he spoke.
"Actually, things are better. I talked to Pete last night. He has been clean all week and we had a good talk which lead to a sort of breakthrough on my end. He should be here tomorrow for the wedding on Sunday," I stated, and though this was happy news, the thoughts of my dream still had me sounding worried. My Dad looked surprised at first, but then a questioning look came onto his face as he gazed at me from across the table.
"Well, that's great. So what's wrong?" He asked, sounding calm but looking concerned. I tucked a stray piece of hair from my messy bun behind my ear and shook my head.

"It's nothing, pops. I just had a bad dream and I'm still feeling a little odd from it," I informed him. He studied me for a moment but eventually just nodded his head and picked his newspaper back up in classic Andrew Aniani style. I tapped my fingers on the surface of the table and studied the back of his paper, wondering whether or not I should ask his view on if there is any meaning to dreams. But, as usual, he knew me better than I thought and made the first move in bringing it up.
"Is there anything else?" He asked from behind his paper. I smiled at this. I had definitely missed my dad. He knew me better than anyone else, except maybe Pete, but that was definitely a different sort of familiarity. Unlike some Dads, Andrew Aniani always wanted kids and vowed that when he had them, he'd take the time to actually raise them and get to know them, letting them know that they could come to him about anything. Lucky for me, he kept that vow. As well as broke the chain that his grand parents started of giving their Hawaiian kids American names.
"Just wanted to ask your opinion on something," I started. He put down his newspaper and looked at me expectantly, his eyebrows raised over his dark brown eyes. "What do you think dreams are? I mean, do you think they mean anything?"
My Dad sat back against the back of the kitchen chair he was seated in and crossed his arms overtop of his large belly. He seemed to think about it for a moment before giving a very non committal shrug of his shoulders.

"I suppose it depends. I believe that spirits can come visit you in your dreams, maybe tell you things, give you hints to the events of the future, things of that nature, but otherwise, I don't think dreams themselves are a sign or anything like that. Why?" he asked. I nodded my head and thought about it for a moment. The belief of spirits was widely held in Hawaii. There were spirits for just about everything, and of course, we Hawaiians believe they can visit us if they choose, the easiest way being to visit us in our dreams. I'm sure anyone has had it happen, even if they didn't know it at the time. The deceased family member or friend showing up in a dream, having a conversation with you that, at the time, may not seem to mean anything. But, if you pick apart that conversation, you may find important answers to the past or maybe even the near future. Of course, unless the pregnant woman in my dream was a deceased friend or relative telling me Pete was leaving me for her, I didn't think this meant much of anything to me. It had to just be my fears coming out in my dreams.
"No reason, pops. Thanks," I smiled reassuringly before standing up, giving him a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek and walking out into the backyard to get some fresh air.

I stayed there for some time, just sitting in the grass against our palm tree, looking at the sky and pondering the thought of dreams and spirits. I've had many dreams with my Mother in them, and I always believed she was visiting me, spending time with me the only way she could. Spirits who know they are spirits (A.K.A had a slow, non traumatic death and now knew they were dead) had more of those kinds of powers than the spirits who didn't quite know they were no longer alive.
I must have been sitting there for longer than I thought, because when I concluded my thought process and stood up and turned around, Pete was in the doorway watching me.