ᴋɪɴɢ ʀᴀꜰᴀᴇʟ: ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇᴛᴇ ✓

⭒61⭒

Take care of my heart for it travels to you more than it resides with me
{Somewhere on Instagram}
_______

Ever since six months ago, when Rafael, or should I now call him Alvaro Marco, was caught, the news of his entrapment was still spoken about till this day. Often times, Jimena wondered and inquired about her father, and I'd always give her the same answer back.

"Papa is busy Jimena, once he is done with work, he will surely come to see you" I'd smile, and coax her thoughts into something else so she didn't ponder too much on the matter.

Of course, she would do that though, when she thought mama wouldn't notice, the way she'd stop drawing, or practise the alphabet, she would sit still, and be completely engorged in something else. Physically, my baby was next to me, but mentally, I knew exactly where her mind was.

My family was more than surprised when they realised what I'd done. I'd told them the entire truth between me and Rafael, failing to mention he was a part of the mafia. The leader of this vicious syndicate. I told them Jimena's story, and considerably, their hearts melted for this tiny human.

Although they seemed to acknowledge everything that transpired during my time in Spain, it didn't mean they weren't angry. Oh they were angry alright! And I deserved it. Marrying without their blessing. Bringing back someone's child. They could have only wondered what went wrong with me.

For the past six months there seemed to have been no repercussion's to my actions, no one to tell me if what I was doing was right or wrong, and the moment my family displayed their contemptment, I couldn't have been more happier. It felt like I was a child again, whom had an adults hand to hold onto when something went wrong, and that at the end of the day, I would get what I deserved. I would be shown the right way. The blame would now be shared among others and make me feel less guilty.

Abu g did not speak to me for an entire month, refusing to even look at me, nevermind sharing a sentence with me. But after I'd mustered enough courage to talk to him and explain my reasoning, the ice around his heart melted away, although much slower than I anticipated, but nonetheless. Throughout these months, I was a child again, in my own house, thriving and slowly slipping back into what was my norm.

Yet still, whenever Jimena was around, my childlike behaviours were reserved for my parents, and since I was her mother, I now adopted the role of my own mother. I'd reflect back on her ingenious parenting and apply the same with Jimena. The grand circle of life.

The awkwardness was still there, but it was better than being non-transparent. Jimena had grown on him the most, as he'd refer to her as his little moon. Or his light. His Jigar. I couldn't have asked Allah for a better turn of events.

"Nana jaan" Jimena would say with her cute voice and giggle everytime dad would reply back with 'my liver'. She'd let out a sweet giggle, knowing all too well how smitten her Nana was with her and the power she held over him.

"Yes my Jigar" he'd reply, picking her up often times and placing kisses across her face. I was glad I'd informed him of Jimena's story. I could tell he'd be a sucker for the way she was brought into this world. No one deserved to go through what Jimena did and prior to that her mother. Everyday her biological mother was in my prayers, for her to rest in peace.

I was sat In a taxi to get back home, and even here I couldn't escape my past. The radio was loud in the deafening silence as it echoed about in the car.

"This week's headline news is coming straight from Spain, Christina Alejandro is here with us at the BBC. Christina, what a pleasure it is to have your here. What can you inform us of today for the supposed suspect Alvaro Marco?" Inquired one of the news anchors.