Destacar Lover | Zarry

Chapter : 49

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I clenched the phone tightly in my hand, pressing it hard against my ear, my breath hitched. My heart pounded so fast, it felt like it might burst out of my chest.

Trisha had just left me alone in the living room, giving me the space I desperately needed. I was thankful for that. The moment the door clicked shut behind her, the walls closed in, and I felt like I couldn’t breathe.

Tears welled up in my eyes, blurring my vision. It’s been a year. A whole year since I’ve heard his voice. And now, just the sound of it, so close yet so impossibly distant, broke something inside me.

The urge to reach through the phone and pull him close, to wrap myself around him, to feel his warmth against me—it was overwhelming. I wanted to hold him, to kiss every inch of his face, to tell him how sorry I was for everything.

I’d promise him right here, right now, that I’d never let him go again. I’d keep him safe, loved, cherished—anything he wanted, anything at all.

But instead, I sobbed, the sound tearing out of me like a raw, wounded animal. I couldn’t catch my breath, couldn’t speak, couldn’t do anything but feel the crushing weight of a year’s worth of pain and regret.

The phone was slippery in my hand, and I was afraid I might drop it, afraid I might lose him again, even if it was just his voice.

I couldn’t go through that. Not again.

"Z-Zayn," I whispered, my voice cracking.

I clung to the phone as if it were the only thing keeping me from falling apart completely. I just wanted to be with him, to tell him everything, to make it right.

But all I had was this—his voice in my ear, and the desperate hope that maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t too late.

.
.
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I tried to steady my breath, but it was no use. The sobs just kept coming, shaking my whole body, tearing through me like they were trying to rip me apart from the inside out.

"Darling," I choked out between gasps, my voice a broken whisper. "Please... come back to me. I can’t... I can’t live without you, Zayn."

The words spilled out, tangled in hiccups and sobs, but I couldn’t stop. I didn’t care how I sounded, how desperate I must’ve seemed. All I knew was that I needed him. I needed him more than anything.

“I’m sorry,” I cried out, louder this time, the words almost lost in the mess of my sobs. “Zayn, I’m so sorry. Please, just come back. I’ll make it right, I swear. I’ll do anything.”

The line was silent, but I knew he was there. I could feel him listening, even if he didn’t say a word. And that silence—it broke me in ways I didn’t even know were possible.

“Zayn,” I whispered again, softer this time, like if I spoke too loudly, I’d scare him away.

I pressed the phone harder against my ear, as if somehow, that would bring him closer, bring him back to me.

My heart was pounding so hard I thought it might just give out, right then and there. But I didn’t care. All I wanted was to hear him, to know that he was still there, that I hadn’t lost him for good.

The tears kept coming, and I didn’t bother to wipe them away. What was the point? I was a mess, and I couldn’t even begin to pretend otherwise. Not with him. Not with Zayn.