THE ESCAPE

Cries of the Heart

“Enough about me," Jaxon said, his voice low and smooth, as he shifted his gaze to me. "How do you like the dress? It suits you perfectly." His eyes roamed over me, taking in every detail of the dress, and I could feel heat creeping up my face again.

I felt like I was under a microscope, with Jaxon's intense gaze scrutinizing every inch of me. But at the same time, I couldn't help but feel a thrill of excitement at the way he was looking at me. It was like he could see right through the dress, to the very heart of me.

I swallowed hard, trying to play it cool, but I could feel my pulse racing in my veins. "I...I like it," I stuttered, trying to sound calm. "Thank you for choosing it for me."

"There's no need to thank me," Jaxon said, his voice low and smooth, as he took a step closer to me. "It's my job to make sure you're...presentable, after everything you've been through." His eyes locked onto mine, and I felt a shiver run down my spine as he added, "After saving you."

I could only smile and bow my head in gratitude, feeling a sense of relief wash over me. After my moment of thanks, Jaxon's expression turned concerned, and he asked, "Are you hungry?" But I lied, not wanting to impose on him further. "No, I'm not hungry," I said, trying to sound convincing. "I don't have the appetite to eat."

Jaxon's eyebrows shot up in surprise, and he took a step closer to me. "Are you serious?" he asked, his voice laced with amusement. "How can you not be hungry after all the torture you went through? You need something to make you forget it." He leaned in closer, his voice taking on a conspiratorial tone. "Let me tell you a secret," he whispered, his warm breath tickling my ear. "Food is a great therapy for trauma."

I felt a shiver run down my spine as Jaxon's words sent a spark of curiosity through me. What did he mean by that? I wondered, feeling a pang of hunger that I hadn't noticed before. Maybe Jaxon was right – maybe food could be just what I needed to take my mind off things.

As we walked out of the boutique, the cool evening air enveloped us, carrying the enticing aromas of street food. Jaxon led me to a small food stall adjacent to the boutique, where a steaming pot of hen's soup simmered on the stove. My stomach growled in anticipation as Jaxon ordered two bowls.

As we sat down to eat, I took a tentative sip of the soup, and my eyes widened in amazement. The flavors danced on my tongue, rich and savory, with just the right amount of spice. "This is incredible," I breathed, taking another sip.

Jaxon smiled, looking pleased. "I told you it's the best in town," he said.

But then reality hit me like a ton of bricks. I reminded myself that there had never been a time when my mother smiled warmly at me, or when she hugged me with genuine affection. Her love had always been conditional, and I had grown accustomed to her cold, distant demeanor.

Ugh, forget it, I thought, pushing aside the painful memories. I'll just call Cassie, my best friend. At least she would care, at least she would listen. I felt a surge of determination and pulled out the phone Jaxon had given me earlier. Time to reach out to the one person who had always been there for me.

I quickly punched in Cassie's number on the phone, thank goodness I had memorized it. The call connected almost immediately, and I heard her voice on the other end, cautious and uncertain. "Hello, who is this?"

I tried to sound natural, despite the emotions swirling inside me. "Heyyyy, pookie!" I said, attempting to inject some levity into my tone.

There was a pause on the other end of the line, and for a moment, I worried that Cassie wouldn't recognize my voice. But then, her broken voice came through the phone again. "Is this Aliyah?"

I felt a lump form in my throat as I confirmed my identity. "Yes, it's Aliyah. What's up, gurlll?" I said, trying to sound casual despite the turmoil inside me.

Immediately, Cassie's voice dissolved into wailing and sobbing. "Aliyahhhhh, where have you been?" she cried, her voice cracking with emotion. "I went to your apartment, you weren't there. I've been calling you non-stop, but it didn't go through. Where in the world are you?"

I felt happiness spread through my heart as I listened to Cassie's tears of joy and relief. Someone was there for me, someone who cared. The realization was like a balm to my soul, soothing the wounds and calming the fears

Having a real friend like Cassie is truly a blessing. We've been friends for almost six years now, and she's been my rock, my confidante, and my partner in crime. While I was all alone, struggling to navigate the ups and downs of life, Cassie was there to give me company, to listen to me, and to offer a shoulder to cry on.

She's more than just a friend to me; she's a sister, a kindred spirit who understands me in a way that few others do. And as I listened to her sobbing on the phone, I felt a deep sense of gratitude and love for this amazing woman who has been by my side through thick and thin.

While others insulted me, belittled me, and made me feel like I was worthless, Cassie never did. She never joined in on the mocking or the teasing. Instead, she stood by me, stood up for me, and defended me against those who sought to hurt me. She saw something in me that others didn't - something worthy, something valuable, something lovable. And she made me feel seen, heard, and understood in a way that few others ever have.

Cassie Wellesley is indeed a good friend, one who has been a constant source of comfort and support in my life. She's the only child of a happy family, with parents who adore her and each other. Growing up, I couldn't help but feel a pang of envy whenever Cassie talked about her family's warm and loving dynamics. My own family life was so different, so cold and distant.

But Cassie never made me feel like I was any less worthy of love and acceptance. Instead, she welcomed me into her life with open arms, and introduced me to her parents. They took me under their wing, treating me like a second daughter, and showing me what it means to be part of a loving and supportive family.

Over time, Cassie's parents became my second parents, the ones who could actually replace my real parents in terms of the love and care they showed me. They were always there for me, offering a listening ear, a comforting hug, and a reassuring presence that made me feel like everything was going to be okay. And Cassie, of course, was the one who made it all possible, the one who brought me into her family's loving fold.

As the warmth of Cassie's family's love and acceptance washed over me, I felt myself being pulled back to reality. The pain and trauma of my past began to resurface, and I could feel tears welling up in my eyes. I tried to hold them back, to stem the tide of emotions that threatened to overwhelm me, but it was no use. A stifled cry escaped my lips, and I felt my body begin to shake with sobs.

Cassie's voice cut through my tears, anxious and concerned. "Aliyah, say something! You're making me nervous," she said, her words tumbling out in a rush. I could hear the worry in her voice, the fear that something was wrong, that I was hurting in some way. And in that moment, I felt a deep sense of gratitude for this wonderful friend of mine, who cared about me so deeply, who was always there to listen and to support me.