The Epilogue
The strong scent of coffee beans floated through the air, the stereotypical jazz music came through the stereos, and there was soft chatter from the many others in the coffee shop. It didn't take long to order, and soon I heard "Joelle" get called and I smiled at the barista as she handed me the coffee cup. I wrapped both hands around the warmth, it was so cold outside I needed some of my body heat back, and headed towards the corner booth where Zayn was sitting scrolling through his phone. He glanced up when I slid into the opposite seat. It was still slightly insane that we had been dating for almost two years and I had managed to keep myself from running away.
One Direction was still going strong, but they took more breaks now. They deserved it, after doing back to back albums and tours, you could just see how much happier they were when they got to be home more than just a week a year. I didn't see the other boys all that much, except for the occasional appearance I made at a show or when Zayn dragged me along to some awards show.
I didn't enjoy the fame dating Zayn brought to me, but I could handle it. Some days I needed to stay in bed and listen to music, and some days I needed to walk around London with my sunglasses on and head down. I kept my job at the radio station, though I was careful to avoid almost all topics of One Direction. Other than the occasional 'here's One Direction's latest single!', I saved the gossip for Martin.
It was nice to have someone who shared my love for music. Our apartment (yes, our apartment) had the best surround sound system possible, and we almost always had our phones plugged into the outlet playing our favorite songs. Some days we just sat on the couch and listened. We didn't lose that, even with all that ever happened to either of us, music was always our escape.
Blake and Zayn became best friends quickly, and Manda and Mary enjoyed having a famous guy come to dinner at the house every once in a while. My parents really liked the way he treated me, and I honestly think they just like that someone got me out of my shell. I talk more now, mostly because I know Zayn is listening to every word. (Most of the time. He's still a boy and tunes out of conversations when it seems pointless.)
His family was incredible. They were more than welcoming, and his mom always gave me the biggest hugs. The second time I met her, she told me "You know, I knew this girl he was head over heels for had to be amazing to get him so hooked, but you really exceeded all expectations." We had holiday plans to go to Dubai next months, just us and the beach.
Everything really had worked out perfectly, and even though sometimes I had a hard time letting him in, I was happier than I had ever been. I had learned to leave my real dad in the past; I even found myself hoping he was happy and that he had a family and that life was good for him.
"Hey. You know how many coffee dates we've been on in the past two years?" Zayn asked randomly, his phone back in his pocket and all of his attention on me.
Since I had just taken a sip, I shrugged as I put my cup down on the table.
"If my calculations are right, it's been about 400?" He grinned, getting a little fidgety and his face was flushed.
"That's great?" I said with confusion, trying to not laugh at his expression. "Maybe we should go to therapy, that's a lot of coffee."
"Do you remember what I said when I first asked you out for coffee?" His grin growing wider.
"No…." I searched my mind for that day at the radio station.
The moment clicked suddenly, and it felt like I was standing in that room once again. Surrounded by my co-workers, the One Direction members, and the constant talking around us. Zayn standing in front of me, blocking my exit as he insisted that we talk. The nervousness that was pitted in the bottom of my stomach, and the way I was anxious to get out of there. The simplicity of him asking me out for a cup of coffee and the sense of dread that was rooted in me. But also the unexplainable urge I had to give him my number.
"Come on," Zayn stood up from the table, reaching for my hand. "You can leave the coffee here, I'll buy you another later if you want."
I hesitantly twined my fingers with his and let him help me up. With my hand in his, he led me outside into the cold air. He pulled me closer to him, sensing my sudden chill. He didn't bother saying anything as we walked along the street. We crossed an intersection, and after only a few minutes, I knew exactly where we were going. It was the park Zayn and I had been to plenty of times. The one where we had our first and where we spent hours talking. I kept my eyes focused on the ground as I tried to figure out what was happening.
As we got towards the back of the park, where the cement sidewalk ended and it became a trail, I noticed the white roses that were lining the trail. That's when I remembered what Zayn said that one day two years ago.
"Come on, it's one cup of coffee. It's not like I'm asking you to marry me." A smirk had taken place across his lips, and it grew as he continued to speak. "That comes after about four hundred cups of coffee."
"Zayn…" I said slowly, as we reached the end. Flowers were everywhere, and there was no one in sight. He looked into my eyes and I could tell that he knew I had just figured out what was happening. He smiled, lips tilting up on the left side of his face as he kneeled.
The next five minutes were a blur and I couldn't really process what was happening, all I can say for sure that was said were the words "Will you marry me?" and "Yes".
Then there was hugging, kissing, and crying. There never seemed to be a moment as perfect as this.
"I love you, Zayn." I said that night as we cuddled on the couch watching some pointless show on TV. We decided to not tell anyone until the next day, and revel in this little secret of ours. "I'm in too deep, there's no way I can leave you now. I guess I'll always be beside you, huh?"
"I wouldn't have it any other way, darling."
