“Of course I’ll marry you,” pressure built up at the back of Jessica’s eyes, her face got hot, and she felt her heart sore at his words.
So that’s what he was talking about earlier.
Zayn slipped the ring on her finger as Preston stood in the back shaking his head.
“I can’t wait for the moment to say ‘I told you so,’” Preston spoke.
“The feeling is mutual. You’ll see, Preston. This girl is my life, I’ll show you.”
The affianced couple left the building hand in hand, clearly pleased with their last actions. They wanted to get married for as long as they knew each other, but when was ever a good time for them. Sure, she imagined her proposal to be a little different, but she was marrying Zayn Malik. That was all that mattered to her.
Jessica Margaret Palermo, would be a person of the past. The girl he fell in love with, but she wanted to be the woman he needed and the woman that made his life worthwhile. She was so ready to become a new woman and live a life with Zayn that was to be envied my many women.
Jessica Margaret Malik.
The collected themselves as they sat in his Bentley, it hit her then. It was really about to happen. She has to plan an actual wedding. Her parents didn’t even know they were back together and his parents sure didn’t. Now, they’re fucking engaged. Holy titties. How the hell do you spring this on them?
His family was like her own, to an extent. Yaser, was never her biggest fan. He always wanted Zayn to marry a Muslim, she didn’t have to be Pakistani or Indian, she just had to be Muslim. She was Christian and she wasn’t even that religious. She believed in God and had morals that she abided by, some that she went by as a personal virtue. She marched in many gay rallies and went to many organizations for gay rights, both were frowned upon in the Christian and Muslim world. She always did what she thought was best for her and that wasn’t always the popular opinion. Yaser was always there to let her know what he didn’t like of her actions.
Zayn was almost in the same boat as she was with his father. He was always proud of his heritage, but he was never really religious. While he never marched in rallies as his better half had, he got tattoos, had sex often out of wedlock, smoked and drank. He was no perfect cookie, but he knew what his father wanted. Zayn always felt like he was a disappointment to his dad, but Jessica was just something he couldn’t compromise. He wanted his father’s blessing, but he was going to marry that girl with or without it.
“You look nervous, Jessica.”
“You dad…”
Zayn started the car and led them down a familiar path, then he made an unexpected turn.
“Malik, right now?”
“Better now than later.”
They pulled up to a train station that they knew like the back of their hands. When the couple led themselves in, they were stopped by a couple of teenage girls and a couple of homosexuals on Jess’s behalf. They stepped up to the front desk, to the same older gentleman that has been getting their tickets for almost two years, more on Zayn’s side.
“Look whose back,” his eyes widened as the light hit a particular finger on Jessica’s left hand, “Oh and engaged, too.”
He pulled her hand closer to inspect it, “Congratulations, Mrs. Malik.”
She giggled a little, “Aww, thank you, Sid.”
“Am I just getting you two the usual?”
“Yes, please.”
