The Bank of Second Chances | Zarry

Chapter 11: Baba 💔

Zayn had never been particularly fond of French cuisine, but today he found himself staring at a menu full of words he couldn't pronounce. The small bistro on the edge of campus was bustling with activity, a sharp contrast to the heavy silence that weighed on him. He glanced at the clock on the wall, wondering if his father would actually show up. The last time they saw each other was brief and awkward—an encounter Zayn had hoped would fade from memory. Instead, here he was, waiting for Yaser. When his father finally walked in, Zayn felt a strange mix of relief and anxiety. Yaser looked older, more worn than he remembered, as if life had taken a particular toll on him recently. They exchanged a brief, uncomfortable hug before sitting down. The waiter brought water and left them alone to make their decisions. "How have you been?" Yaser started, his voice breaking the silence like a hammer on glass. "I've been... okay," Zayn replied, not meeting his father's eyes. "Busy with school, you know. Graduation's in two days." "Yes, I know. That's why I wanted to see you," Yaser said, pausing as if gathering his thoughts. "There's something I need to tell you, Zayn. Something important." The apprehension in Yaser's voice made Zayn's stomach churn. He suddenly regretted agreeing to this lunch. "What is it, Dad?" Yaser took a deep breath, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Your mother and I... we've decided to separate." The words hung in the air like a death sentence. Zayn felt his world tilt, his grip on reality slipping. He had always known his parents to be a united front, their love a constant in his life. This revelation shattered that image completely. "Why? How?" Zayn stammered, his voice breaking. "I don't understand." "It's been a long time coming," Yaser said, his voice thick with emotion. "We've tried to make it work, but sometimes... sometimes love isn't enough." Zayn's eyes filled with tears. "But you and Mom... you've always been together. I can't imagine it any other way." "I know, son. I know," Yaser said, reaching across the table to grasp Zayn's hand. "I wanted to tell you in person, alone. I didn't think it was right to do this in front of Harry." The mention of his boyfriend brought a new wave of emotions crashing down on Zayn. He had so much he wanted to say, but words failed him. Instead, he squeezed his father's hand, tears streaming down his face. They sat in silence for what felt like hours, the noise of the restaurant fading into the background. Eventually, Yaser spoke again, his voice barely above a whisper. "I want you to be the best you can be, Zayn. Take care of your mother during this hard time. Be a better man than I was." Zayn nodded, unable to form a coherent response. His mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions, each one more painful than the last. "And there's something else," Yaser continued, hesitating. "I... I saw Arlo the other day. He's a beautiful child." Zayn felt a pang of pride at the mention of Harry's son. "Yeah, he is." Yaser's gaze was intense, scrutinizing. "Zayn, is there something you want to tell me about Arlo?" Confusion washed over Zayn. "What do you mean?" "Is he... is he yours?" Yaser asked, his voice trembling. Zayn's eyes widened in shock. "No, Dad. Harry and I have only been together for four months. Arlo's sixteen months old. He's not mine." Yaser seemed to study Zayn for a long moment before finally nodding. "Okay, I believe you. Let's drop the subject." But Zayn could tell his father wasn't entirely convinced. It was a small consolation in the face of the larger bombshell he had just dropped. The rest of the lunch passed in a blur. They spoke about mundane things—school, plans for the future—but the weight of Yaser's news hung over them like a dark cloud. When they finally parted ways, Zayn felt more lost and confused than ever. 

***
Back in his apartment, Zayn sat on his bed, his thoughts racing. He had barely two days until graduation, a milestone he had looked forward to for years. But now, the prospect of facing his family, fractured and broken, was almost too much to bear. His mother and sisters would be there, along with Harry and, of course, his father. The thought of all the awkward moments and strained interactions filled him with dread. He needed to talk to someone, to find comfort and solace. Without thinking, he grabbed his phone and texted Harry.

"Can we talk? Need to see you."

A few minutes later, Harry replied.

"Of course. Come over."

Zayn didn't waste any time. He grabbed his jacket and headed to Harry's, his heart heavy with the weight of the day's revelations. When he arrived, Harry opened the door with a concerned expression. "Zayn, what's wrong?" Harry asked, pulling him into a tight hug. Zayn buried his face in Harry's shoulder, letting the tears flow freely. "It's my parents. They're separating." Harry's eyes widened in shock. "Oh my God, Zayn. I'm so sorry." They moved to the couch, where Zayn poured out his heart. He told Harry everything—Yaser's confession, his plea for Zayn to take care of his mother, and the lingering doubts about Arlo's paternity. Harry listened intently, his expression one of sympathy and understanding. "I can't imagine how hard this must be for you," he said softly. "But you have to remember, this isn't your fault. Your parents' problems are their own." Zayn nodded, wiping away his tears. "I know, but it's still so hard. And then my dad asking about Arlo... it just threw me off." Harry chuckled softly. "Arlo's my son, Zayn. And as far as I'm concerned, you're a wonderful part of his life. A fairy from the fertility clinic helped make my angel come to life." Zayn smiled at the sentiment, feeling a warm glow in his chest. But his father's words still echoed in his mind. What if there was more to the story? What if he was that fairy from the clinic? As a bit of panic set in, Arlo wobbled over to Zayn with his arms stretched out, asking to be picked up. The child looked up at him with pure happiness in his eyes, settling on Zayn's lap and hugging him tightly. "Ba-ba," Arlo babbled quietly, laying his head on Zayn's chest. In that moment, Zayn's entire world stood still. He looked down at the little boy in his arms, feeling an overwhelming surge of love and protectiveness. Whether or not he was Arlo's biological father didn't matter. What mattered was the bond they shared, the love they had for each other. He glanced at Harry, who was watching them with a tender smile. "No matter what, we're a family," Harry said softly. "And we'll get through this together." Zayn nodded, feeling a sense of peace settle over him. Despite the chaos and uncertainty, he knew he wasn't alone. He had Harry, he had Arlo, and together, they would face whatever challenges lay ahead.