Twice in a Lifetime (Zayn Malik)

Chapter 72. Dangerous.

Chapter 72

Mia's POV

I wasn't surprised that the person behind the door grew impatient as he kept pressing the doorbell at an urgent pace.

"Coming!" I nervously shouted midway frantically down the stairs.

Since I didn't expect Zayn to be here so soon, I grew more nervous about how I looked and about my final decision. I was making the right choice .. Right?

I drew in a deep breath before facing him, trying to gain a sense of confidence and hiding the rising anxiety I was having. My sweaty hand gripped the golden doorknob and twisted it, opening the way for ..

Not Zayn.

It was an older woman although she still looked young. She was about the same height as me, her wavy brown hair around her face, her chocolate toned eyes resembled the ones I used to dream about before I fell asleep. She was actually really gorgeous, her warm smile radiating a friendly aura around her.

"You must be Mia," she said, fixing the strap of her purse onto her shoulder before extending her arm out to me.

"Yes, hi," I mimicked her, shaking her warm hand. "I'm sorry if I'm being rude but do I know you?"

"No, we haven't met. I'm Patricia but you can call me Trisha or Trish, whichever you prefer," she smiled widely. "Can I talk to you about something, dear?"

"Um, okay. Uh, Trish, please come in," I pulled the door wider for her to walk in.

"Thank you, I just have few matters to discuss and then I'll be off."

"Okay, sure. Let's go in the living room," I suggested as she carefully observed the foyer.

"You've got a very lovely home.."

"Thank you, it was my mother's..This way," I led the way to the lounge where I seated her on the couch Zayn and I used to sit on. "Would you like something to drink? Tea or water?"

"No, I'm fine, thank you."

Well, this was awkward. I've got a stranger in my home, an awfully familiar looking one. Plus this place was so far out of the city, she could shoot me with a gun and no one would be able to hear it. Oh god. There goes my head again.

I wonder how she found me.

"Well, Trish," I began, making my way around the coffee table. "What is it that you needed to talk about with me?"

"It's about my son," she said, her eyes filled with worry.

"Your son..okay, what's his name?"

"Zayn Malik."

The air of the room suddenly stiffed at the mention of his name. I felt like I had been punched across the face, the blow almost knocking the wind out of me.

"You're Zayn's --oh my gosh. I'm so sorry I didn't recognize you." Now I was wishing someone had punched me.

"It's okay, we haven't met so don't apologize. He has told me, well the whole family, so much about the girl who has stolen his heart," she admitted and I felt my cheeks blaze a few degrees.

I seated myself on the opposite couch, making sure she didn't take notice of my trembling legs. She was, of course, the love of my life's mother.

"He did?"

"Yes, he did," she half smiled before it quickly faded when she thought of something. "I know who you are."

I gulped at her words, not being able to find my voice.