Calamity [Zarry Stylik AU]©️

Chapter 44: DRUNKEN STUPOR

H,

Working was a good way to be distracted from the anxiety building inside of me. Zayn was going to leave.

Fuck!

How did I fall in love with someone who was going to leave? How did I give myself to someone whose future might not even be at my side? My fear had a life of its own and would consume moments of quietness.

Thinking that it took me so long to find something like him, just to lose him so fast, made me turn into myself and curl up like a ball.

At night, while he held me and said all those beautiful words, I'd never thought I'd hear again, my heart warmed, racing inside my chest. I registered the tone of his voice, his lips on my ear, and how he held me so tight I nearly lost breath. I wanted that. I wanted him to hold me forever. To be mine forever.

It was already difficult for me to be working, while I knew he was back at home by himself. He was so distant from me. I kept longing for him. I spent the day breathing deeply and exhaling, scratching at my chest whenever it got too much.

When I arrived at the bakery that morning, I was welcomed with applause and with a cupcake made by Mrs O' (I know, even I was surprised by the gesture).

While Liam's leave was still valid until the following week, Antonio's nephew had been called to help with the distribution in his absence and Anette had picked up a few shifts to compensate for my absence.

In the morning we got a lot of customers. I dare to say more than usual, as many of them came just to see me and to welcome me back. Something I found extremely sweet and caring from my neighbours.

I received a lot of hugs, smiles, and well wishes which helped me, but weren't enough to mask the sadness I had lingering around me. By lunch hour the rush had dwindled, and I rushed home to find my love, picking up some food on the way.

While we ate, I watched him carefully, memorizing every inch of him and watching him at a distance making my house full of him. While my head rested on his shoulder, feeling his hand massage my head, I wanted time to stop. I wanted to be in his arms forever. He smelled of mint and I buried my nose in his neck, breathing him in. Registering every note of him.

I didn't want to leave him. I wanted to spend every second I had with him. I went back to work, leaving him with his therapist, but feeling like I was dragging a ball and chain behind me. Every step hurt. No, it wasn't in my head, it was physical pain. My face hurt from pushing down the tears. I needed to be strong for him. I wanted him to be certain that I was okay, and that I would survive his absence, no matter how long.

I tried to keep busy: clean things, serve people and rearrange the dispensary. Anything! When I was busy, Zayn was a far memory from me. It was good. If I didn't think of him, I wouldn't miss him and, incidentally, I wouldn't be sad at the thought of him leaving. I would just be an empty shell working.

I received greetings from patrons still throughout the afternoon and I kept smiling through it all. Being busy was good.

But it came to a point where my anxiety pushed through all my barriers. What triggered it, I don't know. I couldn't pinpoint exactly, but that's the thing with anxiety it doesn't have a reason and when it bursts through it shatters every door.

I was cleaning up a table, placing empty glasses and plates on my tray, feeling my hands trembling, but keeping strong. I balanced everything on my hand, turn on my axis and somehow - I don't know how - the tray slipped from my sweaty palm and scattered on the floor making a ruckus.

"Fuck!" I cursed, looking for air to breathe. Around me, the patrons stared, while Mrs Levi came around the counter to meet me. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."