What The Heart Yearn For

Jenny's point of view….

    He stood before me with his two hands in his pockets. His glares were deadly and I was shivering as hell.

   "You think you can run forever, my darling?"

His eyes blazed and I shivered more. The anger in those loving eyes of his was enough to make me trip and fall. 

He instantly had his two hands on my neck.

I was breathing heavily and his closeness did not do much favour to me, he was suffocating me more with his eyes than with his hands. I tried to escape his grip on my neck but I could not. I was losing my breath fast.

  "Zain, please you are choking me"

I cried out with my tears falling uncontrollably. He laughed evilly and brought his lips close to my cheeks. He licked my tears and smirked.

  "killing you will be a waste of time. Do you think I have forgotten what you did to me? You made me lose myself and became a shadow of who I don't know. Your love has turned me into a villain and you will be the first person that will test my wrath. I love you but I will make you pay for doing this to me, mark my words''

   He leaned closer and kissed my forehead. With that he released me and left the room slamming the door shut. I collapsed on the ground holding my neck, I couldn't move or breathe.

 "Mom! mom!! mom!!!"

I felt someone shaking me and I jacked up immediately, sweating profusely

    Mitchell was hovering over me with a worried expression. I raised my head and found out that I had slept off while painting. I was dreaming.

  When realization hit me, I breathed in then out. The dream felt so real. It felt like I really experienced it.

I was still shivering and I could feel a tear sliding down my cheek.

"Mom!!"

I looked up at her.

"Breathe in"

Mitch said gently. I nodded and sucked air in and exhaled.

"Good. Are you okay now?"

I nodded and sat up.

"You dreamt?"

"Yes"

I responded. I wasn't shaking again.

  "Do you want to tell me about it?"

She asked curiously. I forced a smile. "It's best if I don't talk about it. What are you doing here?"

"Nothing, Micheal and I had lunch and I decided to check up on you"

I nodded and found out she was staring at something. I trailed her stares and it landed on the painting I was done with you.

  "Mom, who is he?"

I swallowed hard. I was not ready to answer that question. 

"A friend, dear"

I lied.

  "Is he dead?"

She could not help asking. Her curiosity got the better of her. I sighed softly.

"No he is not.."

She let out the breath she didn't realise she was holding in.  

"That's great. Maybe one day, we will meet him."

I said nothing and stood up. I will never be ready for this discussion.

  "He is your boyfriend, mom?"

I stopped in my tracks and spun around to face her.

  "If he is, you will know Mitchell. Now kindly let me clear up this"

I pointed towards the art supplies on the floor.

She stared at them for a moment.

"Sorry. I should go then, I have got something to do"

Before leaving she grabbed my hand and squeezed it lightly.

"Take care, mom. I love you"

I smiled sadly at her and let her leave.

Getting to the door, she turned,"I am your best friend mom and I understand everything, the ones you had said and those you never said. When you are ready to talk, I am ready to listen" 

She turned and left without another word.

   I stared at the door for a few seconds before sighing and walking back to the painting I had finished.

I watched it for a while. Every detail I remembered, I painted it. He was looking so real and alive. Probably why I saw him in my dream is because I was unconsciously thinking about him. Why would I choose to paint him, I could have painted mom or even the twins but I chose to paint Zain. I guess the heart will not stop wanting what it wants. It's been years yet I yearn for him. I know I can never have him, but my heart still doesn't want to believe it.

  I will just make a frame of it and keep it, it will be useful one day. Despite not telling Mitchell who he is, it never bothered me. She will still ask after him and I hope when she does, I will have the courage to tell her that he is her father and why they can't be together with him.

  I wordlessly packed all the painting tools, cleared the paints all over the floor and the table. I took out the painting and laid it out flat on the floor by the far end of the room to let it dry, came back and pushed the painting stick to the side together with the table. Looking around, everything was in its place, so I walked out of the room.