Chapter : 07

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I was sitting on the sofa beside the bed, having changed into Harry's Dior jumper, grateful that my H&M joggers were mistakenly packed in Harry's bag. I glanced at the time. It was close to 3:30 am, and a heavy sense of regret weighed on my chest.

Harry was curled up on my lap, his head resting on my chest. He sniffled quietly as I continued to run my hand smoothly over his back and through his curls. His tears had gradually subsided, but the atmosphere remained heavy.

I let out a deep sigh, my mind filled with the intention of coming here to confront Harry and make him eat, but now, here I was, sitting in silence, reassuring him with every gentle touch that I was truly sorry. 

The weight of our complicated relationship pressed on my shoulders, leaving me uncertain about what would happen next.

I couldn't help myself any longer. The tension between us needed to be addressed. My fingers curled around Harry's waist as I leaned in and kissed his exposed shoulder, whispering, "I'm sorry, baby. I was just a little frustrated. I didn't mean to push you."

Harry lifted his head from my chest, his red and teary eyes searching for mine. His voice trembled slightly as he replied, "I'm also upset that you didn't come to attend the dinner I organized for you at Gucci Garden."

Frowning, I gently lifted Harry off my lap and stood up, walking towards my coat to check if it had dried. It wasn't dripping wet, at least. 

Harry's voice followed me, filled with confusion, as he asked, "What happened, Zayn?"



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I sighed and turned to face him, my eyes locked onto his beautiful, albeit slightly disheveled face.

I explained, "Harry, that dinner wasn't for me. It was for everyone, so don't get upset about it.

"Zayn, I arranged that dinner specifically for you," Harry replied, his face furrowed with perplexity.

"I knew you'd be hungry, and I wanted to have a meal with you. So I set it up. Of course, I couldn't have dinner with you all alone, so I just invited everyone. But you weren't present. It made me so upset."

Rolling my eyes, I replied, "Why would I come to have dinner with you when you already fired me from my job and hired Tim without telling me?"

Harry's eyebrows furrowed, and he let out a sigh, wiping his tear-stained face. He tied his hair into a bun and sat down on the bed, dialing room service.

"Please bring a quartet of cacio e pepe and Ravioli, and also bring a bottle of Barolo," he ordered.

Once he hung up the phone, he crossed his legs and looked at me. "So, you were creating a fuss for this?"



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