k i w i

- 80 -

- zayn -

"Arabella," I sigh, sitting up on the bed and running a hand through my face, trying to rid the tiredness I was feeling. "you alright?"

"Alright!?" She answered back in a mocking tone, laughing very sarcastically. "I'm doing so fucking good, Zayn."

Looking over at the clock, I mentally groaned at the time; 4:50 AM.

"Sorry." I mumble, not really knowing why I even asked to talk. Nothing came to mind, everything was jumbled and all I wanted to do was sleep. "And the baby?"

It was idiotic, I knew it, but I needed time to think. I want to apologize for leaving, but not like this. My apology needed to be face to face, but I didn't want to go back to Chicago, that city was slowly drowning me.

"Honestly, I'm surprised you even remember her." She snapped back, her voice getting louder and louder each time. "Do you remember the baby shower as well? Are you going to show up or...?"

"Listen, Arabella, I—" I started but couldn't finish, the overwhelming feeling was taking over me. Staring at the window, I tried to collect my thoughts. I had written reasons as to why I left, sitting here now trying to remember them, they weren't good enough for her.

What is going on with me?

"Zayn, if you think you I'm going to keep putting up with your bullshit, you're wrong." She spoke before I could, clearly tired from being awake at such hour. "I can't be babysitting you when I have a child on the way."

"I want to stay in London." I blurted out, just wanting to whatever argument we had coming up to be over and done with. "I can't live in Chicago. Its bad for my family's business and...and I don't..."

Stopping myself from saying other things, I gulped down the knot that was slowly forming. The mere thought that had pushed its way to the front of my mind made me want to puke.

That thought had been tossed back and forth in my mind and I tried my very best to get rid of it, it was a ridiculous thought. It was cruel and if I spoke it out, it would break my heart and hers. Specially hers.

"You don't what?" She whispered shakily, "You don't what, Zayn!?" She repeated louder, making me fall into silence. "Do you regret this?"

Maybe. I didn't exactly knew, at least not at this moment.

"I love our baby." I say, trying to stir the conversation another way. "The city is too overwhelming for me. The movement and the culture is all different. I want her to grow up like I did."

"Christ, Zayn!" Going back to her annoyed tone, she exclaimed. "I don't want her growing up in the city either! I was thinking of buying a house in the suburbs and," She sighed, "and live there. With you."

No. No I cannot do that to her.

"I don't know anything about the suburbs." I say, now pacing my room in the darkness, hoping for this to end already. "She'll love London, I'm sure."

"London is far too cold." She groaned, "We have all four seasons—I want her to see the fall. And Regina has a farm not too far, so we can always drive there to feed the animals and let her ride the horses."

Although the knot in my throat was still there, I couldn't help but smile. She had thought of the future, and it made me happy how I was still there.

Unfortunately, in my own future, I didn't see myself besides her. I didn't feel that warmth I had felt a couple months ago.

"During winter, we could sled and build snow-mans and angles." She continued, her tone hopeful and happy. "If our home isn't big enough, your family can always stay in Regina's—she wouldn't mind since she doesn't use it that much."

I sat back on the bed, she continued to talk about what she wanted for our daughter's childhood and all I could feel was nothing.

Nothing came to my mind, no scenarios of us together or of us raising her together. This was totally the opposite of what I felt when I first heard she was growing our baby inside, even at the time we spent together during the holidays.

The feeling I felt in my stomach when I saw her or thought of her wasn't there. Or when I heard her voice, specially if she was talking about us raising our baby, that feeling wasn't there.

Something was wrong with me and I knew in the very back and bottom of my hear what it was, but I just couldn't admit it. I can't break her heart.

"Arabella," Cutting her off her daydream, I gulped down the feeling of guiltiness and closed my eyes. "it's getting late now. Can we talk some more tomorrow morning?"

"Oh, of course." She said off guard, her mood had spun a total three-sixty and it was for the better, I couldn't bare thinking she would go to sleep mad—again. "Yeah, I don't think I'll be awake, but send me a message the time you'll be available."

I hum, laying back in bed. "Probably anytime after noon."

"Okay." She whispered, a small yawn falling from her. "Please tell me you'll be here for the baby shower." She says in almost a begging tone, "I had them push it back a weekend. For you."

Swallowing that guilt, I put on my best reassuring voice I could. "For me?"

"Yes." She giggled, humming and yawning softly again. "For you."

Playing with the sheet besides me, I nod. "Yeah. I will." Clearing my throat, "Um, see you, okay?"

She said a soft goodnight, followed by an even smaller, "I love you."

My body froze, not letting myself breath as she cleared her throat and sighed, hanging up a second after. I pulled my phone from my ear, looking as her contact picture faded and the app I was previously in appeared.

A face I thought I had no desire to see again sat there, her pretty smile and eyes looking at me. She was the reason as to why I did not felt the warmth I had felt with Arabella, the reason that made me run back to London.

And I didn't hated it as much as I needed to—in fact, I was loving it.

—

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