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29. Zayne
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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
His Kind Of Woman 34. Myla
He had gone through so much. That thought weighed heavily on my mind as I watched Zayne from across the room. I had heard snippets of his story, whispers in the corridors, and hushed conversations among colleagues, but hearing it from him felt different. With every sentence that escaped his lips, I felt myself drawn further into his world. The hardships he had endured, the losses he had suffered - they unfolded before me like chapters in a book, each page revealing a deeper layer of his pain. I listened intently, offering a safe space for his truth to be heard. It was a privilege, to be entrusted with his story, and I couldn't help but admire his courage for sharing it with me. He didn't hold back, exposing his vulnerabilities, the wounds that had yet to heal. He carried the weight of the world on his shoulders, yet refused to let it crush him, and I'm proud of the person he's becoming. The room falls silent, all eyes turned toward Zayne, awaiting his words. And I watch as he ta
His Kind Of Woman 35. Myla
"You didn't call." I step inside Zayne's new office, slowly closing the door behind me. "Because it didn't seem like she wanted me dead. I had a fun time with Olivia, she's pretty fun." He's sitting on the chair in front of the desk as if it's not his, and it makes me wonder if what I'm thinking about is right. I walk to him, carefully sitting on his lap while he gives me a surprised but amused look. I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss his cheek. "Were you worried?" His surprise quickly turns into a warm smile as he wraps his arms around me, holding me close. "Yes. Olivia isn't someone to take lightly, and her being nice all of a sudden did raise some concerns." "She's always been nice, Zayne. A little intimidating and sometimes blinded by her own insecurities. We all have layers, after all, and sometimes it takes time and understanding to see beyond the façade we put up." "I suppose you're right." He chuckles softly, his fingers gently caressing my back as he listens attentiv
His Kind Of Woman 36. Zayne
Blue is my favorite color. Not because it's the color of the sky or the ocean or any of the clichés people often associate with it. No, it's my favorite color because of the way her eyes shine with that gorgeous shade of blue, drawing me in as she fights to keep them open. "Pretty," I call, my fingers tracing the contours of her face, following the path of her delicate cheekbones. She smiles and her eyelashes brush against my fingertips, like a soft whisper. "How do you feel?" She's naked, but all I can think about is how her smile is a masterpiece, painting my world with joy and warmth. I just had the best sex in my life, but all I want is to hold her close and enjoy the tender feeling of her being right next to me. "Good." She breathes and her voice, like a gentle melody, lingers in the air, intertwining with the beating of our hearts. I lean in, my lips grazing against her forehead, leaving a gentle kiss. "You're beautiful," I whisper softly and she kisses the tip of my nose, m
His Kind Of Woman 37. Myla
"I'm so happy for you." Daniel and Clarissa are in our house and Mom can't be any happier. We've always been a family, but seeing them together now feels different. I can tell how much Daniel loves Mom and I can't let myself be the reason they're not comfortable in their own happiness. It's time Mom gets her happy ending. "You and your mother deserve all of it." I smile and hug Clarissa who opens her arms for me. "Thank you, Clarissa. I'm happy we can celebrate this with both of you." Daniel is still hesitant around me and I realize I never really apologized for what happened the day I stormed out of the house, leaving the two of them guilty for something they're not supposed to feel guilty about. Love is never guilty, it's pure and unconditional and it's a beautiful emotion that needs to be celebrated. It's time for me to acknowledge that and make things right. Taking a deep breath, I approach him. "I owe you an apology, do I not?" I smile when he holds my mother's hand and looks a
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