Chapter 8 Ache

• Joaquin exuded a chilling aura, sending a shiver down Zayla's spine, instantly waking her and putting her on edge. She felt frozen with only inches between them, her senses sharpening in response to his imposing demeanor.
• Faced with his piercing gaze, she struggled to meet his eyes, feeling a sense of panic. Suddenly, his bony finger lifted her chin, coercing Zayla to meet his gaze, her heart pounding with apprehension. "Joaquin, why have you returned?" she managed to whisper.
• "I came back because I wanted to. Must I seek your approval?" Joaquin's voice was devoid of warmth as he climbed on the bed, disregarding Zayla's resistance and forcefully pushing her down. His actions were rough, his grip on her wrist unforgiving.
• As Zayla's body stiffened, she started resisting and struggling. She fought against his hold but found herself overpowered, her legs pinned down. She was bewildered. This was a side of Joaquin she had never seen before, reminiscent of a savage predator poised to strike. Fear gripped her as the tender and refined Joaquin she knew seemed to vanish. Instinctively, she began to plead, "Joaquin, it hurts..."
• "Zayla, you disgust me. Your very presence repulses me." There was no trace of kindness in his words. He didn't think she was worthy of anything good. Patience had ceased to be a virtue.
• Zayla's body stiffened. She bit her lower lip forcefully, her complexion drained of color under the dim glow. Despite Joaquin's familiar taunts, her heart still twisted with each insult, as though he was slowly but surely crushing her heart.
• Joaquin's visits were scarce, treating her as nothing more than a fleeting diversion, only gracing her presence to fulfill their conjugal obligations before vanishing into the night. Melanie lay injured at the hospital, so he should have been at her side. Yet, here he was, invading Zayla's sanctuary under the cloak of darkness… A flicker of realization dawned upon her. Perhaps he and Melanie had argued, driving him to seek solace in Zayla's embrace.
• However, Zayla lacked the fortitude to engage with him tonight. She pushed against his solid chest, seeking to escape. Just as she managed to get up, her cascading hair was yanked from behind. A sharp gasp escaped her lips as her neck was wrenched back. "Ah..." Zayla cried in pain, "Joaquin, it's too late for this tonight. I have no desire to be with you..."
• Zayla didn't know what triggered the man. Joaquin's expression darkened ominously in the dim light. He clutched Zayla's hand and forcibly pressed her face into the pillow. "Zayla, why put on this innocent act? Do you think I'm blind to your true desires? First, you threaten me with marriage, and now you want to act like a saint?"
• His words sliced through the air, leaving Zayla trembling, tears pooling in her eyes as she stared blankly at the ceiling. Unable to contain her tears, they spilled onto the pillow beneath her. She had once dreamed of marrying this man, who now wielded his words like a blade to wound her deeply.
• Seeing the anguish reflected in her tear-filled eyes, Joaquin felt a pang in his heart. Impatiently, he loosened his tie and bound Zayla's hands to the bedpost.
• Enduring the relentless torment of stomach cancer, Zayla clenched her teeth, stifling her cries, swallowing the metallic taste of blood rising in her throat, longing for release from the unbearable pain.
• Joaquin glanced at the woman huddled in the blanket, trembling delicately, a tinge of pity flickering within him. He wasn't naturally inclined to care for her, nor did he show any genuine concern. Zayla's body had always been resilient, accustomed to working long hours without faltering. Throughout their time together, he had never seen her succumb to illness.
• Her long locks were strewn across the bed, her slender back arched gracefully. When she shifted, her shoulder blades resembled delicate butterflies on the brink of flight. Joaquin couldn't resist the urge to reach out and touch her. But as his fingertips grazed her skin, she recoiled in fright. Joaquin's eyes darkened with anger, a deep displeasure washing over him.
• "Usually as compliant as can be, and now you decide to play hard to get? Let me make this clear, it won't work!" Joaquin's irritation surged, a flame of inexplicable frustration that he didn't know how to extinguish burning within him. However, he refused to admit that Zayla had ignited it. Instead, his thoughts drifted to Melanie.
• Recalling Melanie's words in the hospital about divorcing Zayla, his mood soured instantly. Joaquin clenched his jaw, a bitter taste filling his mouth. Why did I argue with Melanie over Zayla? Zayla is unworthy!
• Zayla wrapped her arms around herself, shrinking like a turtle seeking refuge in its shell, a gesture of self-protection. Despite the warm air and the blanket enveloping her, she couldn't shake off the chill that seeped into her bones. It felt as though a deep wound had been carved into her heart, festering and decaying with each passing moment.
• She had always been adept at enduring pain, repressing her sorrows and grievances, but this time it was different. The notion of divorce had taken root in her mind, spreading like wildfire. She would confront Joaquin about it when she found the strength. She was dying, no longer able to appease him.
• As Zayla surrendered to the ache within her, she caught Joaquin's final words.