Khalan
My lips press into a hard line as I check my phone for a reply from Onyx. I pace the stark room as my frustration builds.
Inked hands run through my dark hair, causing my long ponytail to sway against my back. I stare down at the message that I know she's opened. I know her, she knows how to put up a façade so well that even I begin to believe she has moved on from me.
From us. My fist clenches the phone in a vice grip as I attempt to push the negative thought away. No matter how hard she tries she could never erase the memory of me. I've marked her entire being as mine. And that she will remain.
A slow headache creeps up the base of my skull. I grimace. The one word that I thought would warrant a reply from her has failed me. Regret fills my psyche as I think of her deep skin. Skin that rivals the beauty of a moonless night.
Yulu. I mouth the extinct words of my ancestral tribe Miwok.
Maybe if you would have asked her why all your clothes were neatly folded in boxes after you came home from work that night. My subconscious lashes out harshly. The interrupting thought makes me bitter as I feel the familiar bile rising in my throat.
I spent all those late nights at work trying to provide for us. To build an impenetrable empire around us. For us. For her. And for what?
To be left with this constant sinking in my chest? To be left alone in this depressing ass apartment? My soul yearns for her as I slow my pacing to reflect on everything that led up to our separation.
My anger overtakes me as I prepare myself to launch to phone across the room. The shrill sound of its ringer halts me immediately. My breath catches in my lungs, my inhale sharp. Praying that it is Onyx, I answer before I look at the caller id.
"Hello?" My raspy voice pleads.
"Pana. Why have you not called me? You know you are due for a visit." Hamma's voice fills the silence. Her tone is light. However, I know she's calling me to see when I'm going to visit California. She still isn't aware of my impending divorce. I bite the inside of my cheek as I debate if I should tell her. She knows something is up. I've been acting off these past few months. I usually visit her in the spring, memories of her cooking begin to flood my mind. As spring begins drifts to summer her calls become more insistent.
"I'm worried about you." Her tone takes a serious turn. My mood dampens further. I sigh.
"I know... I wasn't sure how to tell you. I still don't even believe it. She left me." My voice is a whisper. I've become a shell of my former confident self. This woman has brought me to my knees. I hear her sharp intake of breath as my words rush out before I can back down.
"You shouldn't hide things from me, pana. I called to inform you that I took the liberty of booking your ticket to spend time with me before the seasons change. And I don't want nor need any sass. You hear me?" Her words anger me at first. However, I decide to take her advice. She's practically my only family. She was over the moon when she found out about Onyx. Begged me for months to get married, it's now grandkids. The growing tick in my jaw vanishes as I answer her.
"Yes, hamma." She belts out a rich laugh that brings a genuine smile to my face.
"I thought you'd see it in your best interest. Especially if you miss my meals." Her tone turns serious. "Héma. You know I am here for you. Anytime you need Khalan. Don't close your heart."
"See you soon Nana." I promptly end the call. It hurts too bad to think of what I lost. I'm not interested in discussing the semantics of my marriage with my grandmother either.
My heart stammers in my chest as the ache of being away from her settles in. My grandmother's call was a nice distraction, but my deep frown eventually reappears. Even though it's been three months since we've unofficially separated, the documents delivered three weeks ago rips at the bruised hole in my chest.
A hole that can be only be repaired by one person. One person who has shunned me out of their life for good this time.
My movements are erratic as I jump up, moving swiftly to the kitchen counter. My eyes scan the piles of envelops until I find the documents I'm searching for. I blink away tears as I finally open the manilla folder. Although it seems harmless, I know these papers will determine my future or lack thereof.
Rage seeps through me, turning my eyes into midnight. I rip the papers, tossing them into the trash with a thud. My heart races as I try to control my emotions.
I find myself gasping for air as I sit on the plush couch facing the astonishing skyline. The blues and purples of the sky bleed together, accompanying the setting sun. How picturesque. The brilliance of the view is lost on me. Bright flashy colors don't pique my interest anymore.
I prefer darkness. I prefer Onyx.
The aching is a constant reminder of what I've lost. I wish I would have just told her the truth about me. All the words I had been begging to say to her would have fell on deaf ears. She never would have listened to anything I said. Granted, I don't blame her. I have given her no reason to trust me from the moment I decided to deceive her.
Wasn't long before she caught on. How stupid do you think she was?
My penthouse sits on the top floor of the most prestigious building in the city of Atlanta.
The sky darkens to a depressing shade of obsidian. Thunder rolls in from afar as my chest tightens. I chuckle softly, the action not matching my empty bronze gaze. The rain trickles down the iridescent picture windows that take up the entire wall of the living pace.
The muted colors painted in the room fits my everlasting depression. It comforts me. My breathing slows. My body eventually melts into the cozy loveseat, my raven hair finally freed from it's loose restraint. The lids of my eyes grow heavy as I begin to drift further into the inviting darkness.
As my consciousness slips, one final thought resonates with me.
Although I yearn for Onyx now. We will reconcile our marriage.
My Komé.
Yulu: To be angry, a word derived from Utian language spoken by the Native American Miwok tribe.
Pana: Son, a word derived from Utian language spoken by the Native American Miwok tribe.
Hamma: Grandmother, a word derived from Utian language spoken by the Native American Miwok tribe.
Hema: Be strong, a word derived from Utian language spoken by the Native American Miwok tribe.
Kome: Moon, a word derived from Utian language spoken by the Native American Miwok tribe.
YOU ARE READING
Onyx
RomanceOnyx Kono has officially had enough of her husband's, Khalan's, negligence. She wants a divorce and her heart back. Onyx is determine to shatter his heart to get her sweet revenge. But how will she forget Khalan if he plagues her dreams? Khalan Kon...
