For Lovers Only - [A Zarry Stylik]©️

VIII- A LOT IS SAID IN THE SILENCE

H,

I ended the call and collapsed against my door. I felt it too. My chest tightened as if I were about to die of a heart attack. I had been feeling it all morning. I closed my eyes, breathing and out, calming my heartbeat as I had instructed him to do.

I was nauseous, anxious, and afraid to see him. Up close. In detail. I was not ready for this.

What the fuck am I doing here?

I crawled and dragged myself until I was in the middle of my bedroom, looking at the ceiling.

I clutched my phone in my hand until my knuckles turned white. I did not hate him. I couldn't hate him. I didn't know how to.

I... adored him too much to have room for anything else. He was my everything. He'd always been. I knew I shared him. I had shared him once, coming between the lines of his story with Liam.

I didn't care enough.

What I had with him was real. It had always been real and impossible to fight. What we had during those days before the news broke of the baby, was magical. What we had when we were in Uni and the world was ours was everything. What we had in school, discovering one another was heaven.

So, I didn't care that for a moment he was mine but branded by Liam. Call me selfish, a homewrecker, a sinner...whatever you wish. I'd do it again. I want him again.

God, how I want him again.

I can't take his voice, how he says my name and how I know when he's thinking of me. I can't take it, but I want it all.

My feelings for him have always been there. Even after we separated after my internship and I knew he was with Liam, it had always been there. I lived my life. He lived his. We were cordial around one another, respecting boundaries, but I always knew he wanted more from me and that our connection was still alive and kicking. It was in the lingering stares or how close we were, without ever touching.

After the wedding, I broke - I was invited, and I attended. In my dreams, I would stand up in the part where someone would ask about any objections. In my fantasy, I'd stand up on the chair and yell how much I loved him. Zayn would say yes to me, and we'd run away together.

In reality, I sat in the back, drank too much and threw up in my hotel room. The next day, I left. For good. I couldn't take it. It hurt too much.

I came home two years later, to see friends and family. I admit I was on edge being in the same city as him for the time in such a long time, but I was okay.

I turned the corner and we bumped into each other near my flat.

"Harry?"

My heart dropped to the concrete. "Zayn."

"Oh...Oh my God!" He replied with a smile full of him. "Hi."

He lunged at me in a hug that sent an earthquake inside of me. I forgot how everything worked. Was I breathing?

"Hi."

"How long has it been?"

"A while."

"Yeah..." I replied, staring at that beautiful face. "How are you?"

"Good." He replied embarrassingly. "You?"

"I'm all right. How's...How's Liam?"

Zayn paused before answering. "Good. Better."

"Great." We shared a look that hit me deep in the heart. You know the look. The look you give someone when you want them, and they want you, but an invisible barrier keeps you at bay from one another. That look. I snapped out of it. "Listen, I must go. It was lovely to see you."