Never Letting Go. (Sequel to Til Death Do Us Part.)

32. What To Do?

~Niall's P.O.V

I just don't know what to do.

This is twice that I've witnessed Liz crying into Zayn's clothes in the last twenty-four hours, instead of my own. I'm her boyfriend for pete's sake. I'm here for her crying and to love her how she deserves. To keep her safe and secure. Sane, most importantly. For her and I to raise Claire together. To grow old, have another kid or two, and then live together in New York, just as she wanted too.

I know we were apart for a few months, but the day we got back together, it was like heaven for the both of us. Me more than her. I missed her more than she thought I did and I've been trying to get us back to the way we were before all of the tours we've had, but I can't.

She's just so into Zayn and not into me. What's wrong with me, lately? Am I getting annoying, old, dumber and more naive, maybe. 'Cos I don't find myself annoying. Liz and I barely talk as it is. I'm only twenty-five. No wrinkles or crinkles near my eyes or mouth. I know I'm a bit on the slow side, but I certainly am not naive. I'm just in love with someone who can hardly see it passed Zayn's messy hair and dark features.

I guess I should have saw it coming. I did leave her alone for a couple of months, but I was alone too. We both did something or someone we regret and there's no taking it back, so moving on from it was the next best thing. We at least have to try and move on to the next best thing.

Maybe she just can't move on from Zayn. Maybe he's her new next best thing.

I was exhausted. Exhausted from physically fighting with Zayn, verbally fighting with Liz, raising Clarissa, trying to find Aeron, dealing with helping Harry through his losses. I was just tired and I don't want to put up with anything anymore. I don't want to give up my time and energy to someone who gives theirs to someone else.

I just really want Liz and I to work out before we're torn away from each other for good.

"Niall,"

I had left the flat and got back into the van, in the very back seat.

I looked over at Liz and frowned.

Great, just the person I wanted to see.

"What?" I ask, running my hands down and over my face.

She climbed inside and closed the door behind her. I moved over to the window and looked out across the large front yard where Harry's mother would run around with the three kids, playing various games. Like tag, hide and seek, red rover. In the winter, we'd all come over and have big snowball fights and build snowmen and women. They were all dressed in our hats, scarves, and coats, with sticks, acting as pipes and limbs.

"Listen, I know that I've been a bit more pulled toward Zay-" I cut her off.

"Zayn's the least of my worries. I care little of him."

I looked down at my red Supras and back to my hands, leaning my elbows to sit on my knees.

She let out a sigh and I felt as the seat caved in and a hit of warm breath came in contact with the back of my neck, making me tense up. Her small arms tried to wrap around my torso, but the way I was sitting made it difficult.

"Niall, I just can't understand what we are to each other anymore. It's all a blur to me." She says, burrying her face into my neck.

I shook my head and my eyes roamed the area. From the seats, to the windows, back to the memory infested flat and yard. It was all too painful to take in, but I had nearly no tears left to cry.

"Liz, I-"

"Say it right." She says.

Her name.