DAWG

Twenty-One

*** The song above was an inspiration for this chapter. Feel free to listen to it as you read!

Twenty-One

Zayne's stare was pensive as he remained sitting there staring at the woman's face. She smiled at him uneasily as she stood before him, still awaiting the answer to her query. He cleared his throat as he tried to refocus his questioning gaze on something else. He turned in his seat, slightly slouching. "Are you?"She queried, her voice invading his nonexistent thoughts. He couldn't figure out why he couldn't bring himself to utter a word to this woman. He never had a problem telling anyone who he was before.

He turned his piercing stare towards the glass window that had become a showcase for the rain plummeting heavily from the groggy gray atmosphere. He fixed his gaze on a raindrop slowly cascading down the window, leaving behind its wet residue. He felt like he needed something, anything to take his inquiring mind away from whatever was slowly about to commence. "Your father, Rick..."She said, having now slid her purse into the booth. She quickly seated herself across from him, her powerful hazel eyes never leaving his side profile.

The fact that she knew his father's name instantly captured his attention. He wanted to question her, but instead, he settled for averting his stare towards her. She sat with her hands perched up on the table, her fingers laced together. She kept peering at him as though she were in awe of him. Zayne's green orbs bore into hers – his face appearing to be emotionless, although it was quite the opposite.

Who in the hell is she, he thought to himself.

He grasped his drink in his right hand before taking a small sip. The fresh beverage burned the back of his throat, causing a frown to pull at the creases of his lips. "Who are you?" He asked quietly after swallowing, finally finding his baritone. Although he'd asked the question that was plaguing him he wasn't sure if he really wanted to know the answer, apart of him felt like he NEEDED to know – somewhere deep down inside of him desired that tiny piece of information. The woman began writhing her hands together, her eyes having lastly fallen away from his face. She seemed nervous under his piercing glare for the first time since she'd approached him.

"I'm your mother, Zayne." The words seemed to slip from her lips in slow motion. Zayne became stalk still at the mentioning of her words. His mother? He was rendered speechless and motionless all at the same time. He kept staring at her, wondering if she would ever be able to look him in the face again. How would she be able to though? She hadn't been around for any of his life, abandoning him at the mere age of two months old.

Zayne's heart plummeted to his stomach. All of the feelings that he thought he left behind all of those years ago seemed to come rushing back to the forefront. He could feel a slight aching coming on. He felt enraged, sad, and most of all abandoned. His heart pounded against the confinement of his chest relentlessly. He remained still, his jaw absentmindedly clenching all on its own. He couldn't find anything to say without feeling like he would break down if he said too much.

"Why?"His voice was low and tired as he mumbled that one simple word. His mother's hazel irises shot to his face once more. He knew that she knew what he was asking of her. Why did she leave him so long ago? Why didn't she want him? She rubbed a convulsing hand through her darkened ribbons of hair. He couldn't seem to fathom how she found him after all of this time. Had she always been around? Did his father lie to him about what really happened nearly twenty-three years ago?

"Why did you come back? Why now?"He inquired, his voice coming out a bit rougher than before. She placed her hands back on the table and let out a soft sigh. He placed his hands at his sides, watching her, waiting for her to spew the explanation of why she'd been nonexistent. He began to rub both of his opened palms on the knees of his sweatpants, trying to give himself anything to do. She cleared her throat,"Because I wanted to see you. I wanted to see the man you'd become..." He began shaking his head. That answer wasn't enough. It wasn't enough to pacify the longing and the abandonment that he'd felt for all of those years.