We MaDe It

15.

"Some days you just have to create your own sunshine."

Zayn repeated Niall's response when he'd cautiously asked the reason he left rehab early. His eyes darted around his weary husband's face. Harry was distracted staring blankly into space. Zayn hoped Niall's abrupt return was the cause of distraction.

That brought attention to something he was trying to push aside in his brain. Harry not making it home last night. He had to wonder how much Harry drank for him to black out.

Forgive and forget.

He reminded himself staring at him. Harry's brows were furrowed, like they do when he's deep in thought.

"Haz?" Zayn called his name to get his attention.

Harry blinked, turning his head to look at him. "Uh?"

"What Niall said. Some days you just have to create your own sunshine. What does that even mean?" Zayn said.

"I don't know."

"You know he won't be given strong pain meds when he has his knee surgery because of his history. He needs to be in a good state of mind to cope with that. I remember when I broke my arm, that was painful. I'd imagine it'll be twice that for a knee. I don't think he'll cope. Am I reading too much into it you think?"

"Maybe." Harry said.

"Maybe he didn't like group therapy I know I wouldn't. There are things I don't even say to you sometimes but would to a shrink." Zayn sighed his focus back on what he was doing.

Cooking spaghetti and meatballs. Niall had voiced a craving for the dish to Zayn and he'd gotten up to make it, leaving his young brood and their nanny Mary fussing over Niall.

"I don't want to push him by asking too much, you know. I'm sure he's got a lot on his mind-" Zayn grabbed a colander, placed in the sink, went on draining the spaghetti water. He moved his head to the side as steam came close to blowing on his face. "Should I give him the number to my therapist? She's good."

"Yeah." Harry replied absentminded.

"He's going to say no, I know he will. And don't get me wrong I feel his pain like its my own, but he'll need to work on creating that sunshine, for me not to worry about him. His face looks gloomy not glowing." Zayn tipped the pasta back onto the pot, before turning to face Harry again. "He looked like he's gained weight a bit. That's a good thing, right?"

"Mh-mm." Harry hummed glancing at the entrance. He wondered if Niall had a talk with Brooklyn. Niall had always been an open book, whose thoughts he could read. Why can't he anymore? Niall was too calm. It could be that perhaps--

"You know what else I think?" Zayn snapped his fingers infront of him, when Harry didn't respond. "Harry!"

"What?" Harry looked at him like a deer caught in headlights, having not had heard a thing Zayn said.

"You're not listening to what I'm saying, are you, Harold? I don't know. Maybe. Yeah? Is that the best answers you could come up with?"

Harry's mouth open and closed, but nothing came out. How to defend himself when caught red handed. He looked over at the other occupant in the kitchen. Tneir older daughter. Yasmeen.

"You know what I've noticed, Baba, not a single mention about Brooklyn from uncle Ni-" Yasmeen interjected when her father seem lost for words. "Why has he not asked where his other half is? You're away from each other five minutes and your lips are attached as soon as you're in the same room again." She shrugged as Harry mouth thank you to her.

"Why are you here, Yasmeen?" Zayn asked seemingly forgetting she was there on his request. He asked her to make the meatballs.

It was an open secret amongst their older kids that their Baba's memory tend to be scarce when he's worried about something or someone and he forgets things he said. Yazz knew in this instance he had forgotten what he asked her moments earlier so she played on that, cheekily answering.