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25. Zayne
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2024-10-29 19:42:56Related chapters
His Kind Of Woman 26. Zayne
I stand in front of Helbert's grave with my head down low and my heart sinking to the ground. The weight of my grief feels heavy, almost suffocating, but I don't cry. No tear falls down my eyes but it's all eating me inside. The guilt, the pain, the weight of losing him... everything is reminding me that the tomorrow I thought I'd have never came and will never do. The memories of our time together come flooding back. The laughter, the joy, and everything we shared seems like distant echoes in a place where happiness cannot penetrate. I find myself asking why him, why now, why me? But there are no answers to these questions, no solace in the silence of the graveyard. And the emptiness in my chest feels like a gaping hole that can never be filled. Myla and Keith stand beside me, her head on his chest as she cries. I want to tell her that it's not her fault because I know she feels as guilty as I do, but my mind is consumed by memories of Helbert, memories of a life that once was, an
His Kind Of Woman 27. Myla
I've never thought Zayne would ever do something like this. I stare at him with wide eyes as he holds eye contact, his gaze piercing holes through me. No, this isn't happening. I don't pay attention to the meeting. Zayne does most of the talking and I just sit there, people stealing glances at me while I try to pull myself out of my thoughts. I can't believe him. I can't believe anything that's happening around me. Everything is fucked up. "Myla." When the meeting is done and everyone is gone, he approaches me, his steps hesitant yet his tone determined. "I can explain-" "What will you even explain? The way we became married all of a sudden? Or the way I'll have to pretend to be your wife from now on?" I stand up, my fists tight. "Just tell me, Zayne, am I a fucking joke to you?" I watch while he runs his fingers through his hair and sighs heavily. I should be annoyed. I should be mad. I should be frustrated. Yet all I am is hurt. "I had to. You're the only one who- you're the on
His Kind Of Woman 28. Zayne
"Sorry, I took a while." Myla's mother walks to me with a cup of tea in her hand. "I thought this would make you relax." I see my mother in her. She's got her eyes, that soft motherly look that makes me want to just hug her and close my eyes. "Thank you. I appreciate it." I take the cup from her, the warm steam and comforting aroma immediately making me feel more at ease. We're sitting in the living room while Myla packs her things. We figured she should stay at my place for some time while we complete the marriage process. "Myla talked to me about your marriage." She says and I look at her, noticing the ghost of a smile that crosses her face. "I always dreamt about when she gets married, but the moment it happens, it's a fake one." Fuck. Guilt rushes through me as she looks a time with sad eyes. I feel torn. I know that this marriage is based on ulterior motives, and the guilt of using her for my own gain weighs heavily on me. But I genuinely care for her and want to make her happ
His Kind Of Woman 29. Zayne
"Zayne." She calls my name, her lips against mine, and I smile. A gasp leaves her mouth when I put her legs around my waist and hold her ass, making her look at me. I lean in and kiss her again, and she moans softly against my mouth, making my cock jolt with desire.My mind is clouded by her moans and soft breaths and it takes just a moment before I'm completely lost in her the intoxicating scent of her skin and the taste of her lips, my hands running up and down her back."Jesus Christ, Myla, I want you." I breathe against her skin, making my way to my room before I put her on the bed, my hands exploring her body that I memorized every inch of. The shirt and pants she's wearing are quickly discarded, leaving her naked and exposed to my hungry gaze. Her breathing becomes ragged as my lips trace down her neck, leaving soft kisses along the way. I feel her hands running through my hair, pulling me closer to her, urging me to keep going.Pretty girl, we're in for a long night.She arches
His Kind Of Woman 30. Myla
His arm around me feels like a warm blanket as I close my eyes and drown in his scent. In his presence. In his embrace. In his love.My gaze darts to my hand, where the ring sits on my finger. It's a beautiful one, I wonder if he chose it himself. I mean, he's Zayne Laurier, he probably had someone pick it up for him because of how busy he is. Nevertheless, it fits me just right. I can see a little bit of me in its form. It's crazy how I'm trusting him with myself and my life, but I would never choose otherwise. It's not just the physical attraction, although that's definitely there, it's the way he makes me feel. I know that with him, I'm safe.When I look up at him, he's sleeping like a child. I can't help but smile at the sight of him. His features are so peaceful when he's asleep. His usually intense gaze is now replaced by a calm and serene expression. His chest rises and falls rhythmically with each breath he takes, and I can feel the warmth emanating from his body.I don't rea
His Kind Of Woman 31. Myla
The car ride passes in a blur, and soon we arrive at the courthouse. The ceremony is simple, just as Zayne had planned. Mom and Keith stand as witnesses, their presence a reassurance that I'm not alone on such a day. Vows are exchanged, promises are made and rings are placed on our fingers. He stands by my side, not whole, just half because only a part of him is not afraid of what's happening. His other part is still wondering if he could love again and I feel it in his gaze, touch, and presence. But I hold his hand tightly and intertwine our fingers, offering him a silent promise that I'll be there when he needs someone to hold. Someone to show him that he's not broken. As the officiant pronounces us husband and wife, there's a collective cheer from Mom, Keith, and even a few strangers who happened to witness our small ceremony. Their cheers mingle with the sound of my racing heartbeat when Zayne leans in and kisses my lips. This is not our first kiss nor our last, but it's differ
His Kind Of Woman 32. Zayne
I've made thinking about her an art form. I've had plenty of time to practice and perfect my craft in the years we've been together: I paint her profile into the swirling maze - like shapes that draw themselves on the backs of my eyelids when I shut them tight. I compose music that sounds like the blue of her eyes, so deep and mesmerizing that looking into them can feel like drowning. I've written odes to her lips, hymns to her hands, an elegy to the feel of her leaving my bed, the loss of that warmth. I think about her intentionally, when things are slow at work and I'm bored out of my mind. I think about her idly, when I'm in the car, headed back home where I continue missing her. I think about her when she's next to me, and when she's not. I think about her when I'm in the shower and when I don't fall asleep.I think about her as the woman I wanted so much, the first time we met, and as the stubborn, gentle soul that touched my heart, the second time we met, properly met. Our enco
His Kind Of Woman 33. Zayne
My mind goes back to the years I spent in the orphanage, way before I met Helbert. It all started after I got back home from my mother's funeral and my father threw her favorite vase at me. People said his pain turned into something ugly, but the truth was, it had always been there, lurking beneath the surface, poisoning our home. I wonder what would have happened if I didn't run away that night. The mere thought sends a shiver down my spine. I never saw him since that night, but the pain, the fear, the trauma... it's all here. And sometimes, I believe it's the price I had to pay for running away. Sometimes I believe that if I didn't leave, everything would have been okay. I would have met my mother again and avoided all the heartbreak I had to go through. I remember the cold walls and unfamiliar faces, the sense of abandonment that seemed to linger in every corner. It was a world entirely different from what I had known, a place where the echoes of my past were drowned out by the c
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His Kind Of Woman 48. Myla
"Pretty, do you have to meet him?" Zayne wraps his arms around me as I look in the mirror and I can see how worried he is. "I mean it makes sense the two of you should talk things out, after all, but I don't know. I just want you to be safe.""I don't think Alex would ever think of hurting me." I wince. "At least not physically.""Emotional pain can be as damaging, Myla." His voice is so soft as he pulls me closer, his warmth enveloping me. "I can't help but worry about what it might do to you."I turn to face him, cupping his face in my hands. "We both need to have this conversation. I need to understand things and he needs a chance to at least try and explain himself. It's been eating at me for a while." I'd like to have a conversation with Alex because deep down, I'm still hoping that he wasn't entirely pretending to be my best friend. Because I know that at some point, he genuinely cared about me. Zayne's eyes soften, and he gently intertwines his fingers with mine. "I know. I kn
His Kind Of Woman 47. Zayne
Myla is back home. After the sleepless nights with her by my side, she's finally back home, where she belongs. It feels as though the world had regained its vibrant colors, and the weight of my worries lifted from my weary shoulders. Holding her in my arms, I can feel the gentle rise and fall of her breath, the steady rhythm that assures me she is indeed real and not a figment of my imagination. The scent of her hair, the familiar touch of her hand on my cheek, it all makes me feel as if all the pieces of my scattered world had finally found their rightful place. And I'm complete. We spent the whole morning making love. I'd call it fucking but it'd sound crude and devoid of everything we felt in those intimate moments. I kissed her waist and traced my fingertips along the curve of her spine, savoring the goosebumps that appeared in response to my touch. I made sure she knew how devoted I was to her, how her presence in my life had turned me into a better version of myself, how deepl
His Kind Of Woman 46. Myla
I stand in front of the house as I take a deep breath, calming down my racing heart. When I step inside, there's no sign of life. The kitchen is in pristine order, as if untouched for days. The place is very quiet and Keith's words hit me hard. He was right. I wonder if Zayne is alright. Our bedroom door is closed and I slowly approach it, my hand trembling as I reach for the doorknob. The laughter, the arguments, the stolen kisses in this very room feel like a distant dream when the door creaks and I catch a glimpse of Zayne huddled on the bed, his face buried in his hands. My heart sinks, and I rush to his side, kneeling down to meet his gaze. "Zayne," I whisper, my voice filled with concern. "Are you okay?" He looks up at me, his eyes so red and filled with pain. He looks at me for a moment, taking in my sudden presence and it breaks my heart to see him like this. He tries to speak, but his voice catches in his throat as he wraps his arms around me as if clinging to the last shre
His Kind Of Woman 45. Myla
I spent the past few days locked in my room, the blanket over my body not able to provide the warmth I desperately wish for. Time seems to stand still as I gaze at the world through my window, my eyes tracing the distant horizon. It carries on with its usual rhythm, laughter drifting in from a distance, mingling with the sound of passing cars and chirping birds. But in my room, I'm trapped. Zayne had been calling and texting but I had been unable to bring myself to answer. Although I miss him so much I find myself overwhelmed with emptiness, I don't think I'm ready to face anyone, actually. The thought of trusting someone is disturbed by the thought of them deceiving me, and I find myself questioning if this pain is worth the risk. Zayne said he wanted to protect me. Mom said she wanted to protect me. But all they did was make me feel suffocated as if I were a fragile bird trapped in a cage. I sigh and stand up from my bed, walking out of my room when I stop in front of the mirror
His Kind Of Woman 44. Zayne
She's not home. When I can't find her anywhere, my heart sinks into a deep well of worry. I quickly grab my phone, trembling fingers fumbling to dial her number. Each ring feels like an eternity as I anxiously wait for her to pick up, but there's no answer, only the cold, impersonal voicemail greeting. I stand in the middle of the empty living room, my footsteps echoing in the silence as if mocking my growing unease. I never wanted to imagine a situation like this. I never wanted to hurt her. The thought of losing her make my breath catch in my throat. Guilt floods over me, adding to the worry that grips my heart. I figure she's back home with her mother so I call her, and when she answers, I feel a flicker of hope ignite within me. She says Myla is home and I let out a shaky sigh of relief, feeling the tension release from my body. Instinctively, I take my car and drive to her house because her mere presence can bring me to life again. But I know what awaits me and it breaks my hear
His Kind Of Woman 43. Myla
I stand at the door, staring at Zayne as he presses a knife to Alex's neck, not really sure if I want him dead or not. I thought our movie might end with us being friends again if we tried enough, but the ending credits are rolling and my heart sinks to the deepest pit of my stomach when the realization hits me. Alex was never my best friend. My whole life had been a lie. The people I once cherished, who I believed would always be there for me, had proven to be the very ones who would bring me to the edge of my own destruction. Mom, Alex, and now Zayne. "Myla... I-" His voice trails off as he tries to find the right words, but his actions have already spoken volumes. He lets go of the knife and it clatters to the ground as I take a step back, wrapping my arms around myself because I'm the only one I can trust now. I'm the only one who can protect myself now. "Is it true?" It feels as if I was separated from my body, and now I'm watching her almost from a distance. My whole body is
His Kind Of Woman 42. Zayne
I stare at the video recordings playing on my laptop, blood boiling in my veins. My fists are so tight my knuckles are pale and strained. The thought of her fragile heart shattering into a million pieces makes me want to break Alex's face. Watching the recording feels like a knife twisting in my gut. I asked Keith some time ago to find out why I didn't get Myla's job application and here I am watching someone hand it to Alex in the parking garage with a bag I assume filled with stacks of cash. My mind is filled with unanswered questions about who the man is and why is Alex involved in this. I can't brush off how shady all of this is because the next thing I watch is another recording of Alex crumbling the papers before he threw them in a nearby trash can and got on top of Myla's motorcycle, driving away as if he had just committed the perfect crime. The sight of him callously destroying Myla's application makes me rage. I remember her telling me about how she had been hopeful that
His Kind Of Woman 41. Myla
Alex was my best friend. He's the kind of person to remind you of oversized flannels, baggy jeans, and messy hair. I loved that about him, he was effortlessly cool and the sweetest guy you'll ever meet. He had the ability to make me feel seen and he'd go out of his way to brighten my day whether that be cracking a joke about how he looked like he just rolled out of bed or surprising me with my favorite treat when I least expected it.He felt like adventure and freedom rolled into one. He was hungry for the unknown and new experiences. While others hurried through life, Alex would pause to appreciate the way the sunlight filtered through the trees or the sound of rain on a rooftop. He taught me to slow down. Yet here I am, racing through our memories together while standing across from him. His humor was like a ray of sunshine, brightening my world and reminding me not to take life too seriously. But now it feels like he's sucking his teeth into me, bleeding me dry of everything I onc
His Kind Of Woman 40. Myla
Seeing Zayne be happy and comfortable with himself brings me joy that I can't put into words. A weight had been lifted off both our shoulders and now we can love each other better. We're sitting in the meeting room waiting for the others to arrive, and he brushes a strand of hair off my face. His touch is gentle and the smile he gives me makes me melt. "Your eyes are beautiful." He whispers softly and his words sink into my heart, igniting a flame of affection and desire. I playfully bat my eyelashes at Zayne, feigning surprise. "Oh really? Well, I guess I'll have to start charging admission for people to gaze into them." "I would bankrupt myself a thousand times over just to have the privilege," His words send a shiver down my spine, and butterflies take flight in the depths of my stomach. "If the world knew the depth of beauty that lies within your eyes, they would willingly give up everything they own just for a fleeting glimpse." "Were you always this good at flirting? You're
