Forget You Not | Zayn

Ø°. all falls down

"I want a divorce, Zayn", Ida exclaimed.

They had been arguing once again. Tensions were high between the couple. Once again for the third time in a week Zayn had come home reeking of weed and alcohol. There was also the faint smell of sweet smelling perfume in the mix. Perfume that clearly was not hers.

Normally, before, this had not been a problem. From time to time Ida had partaken in a blunt or two right alongside her husband. But things change. People mature. Zayn obviously had not.

He stopped. His nostrils flaring. His fists clenched at his side and jaw set.

'The fuck you mean you want a divorce? We aren't getting a fucking divorce, Ida', he snarled.

"I said what I said. I'm tired of this shit, Z. This your third time this week coming home like this. Your tenth this month, and now I can smell some bitch's perfume on you. I don't know what you doing anymore. I tried to be understanding towards you, but you're out here taking advantage. We have kids now Zayn. We can't do the shit we used to do when it was just us whenever we want to. They come first and they don't need to hear us arguing late at night nor see their dad like this. You need to shape the fuck up, Zayn", Ida said lowly, anger seeping from her pores.

She was tired. She was frustrated. Most of all, she was angry. She was so angry at her husband that she had almost put her hands on him. That was just how angry she was.

Though she knew that he would never raise his hand to her. She still felt as though the act of doing so to him would be far too disrespectful to ever come back from. Domestic violence goes both ways.

"Piss the fuck off, Ida! You're not my mum! I have one already. Don't question me as a dad! I am a damn fucking great dad! Don't ever try to make me out to be a shit dad!", he barked drunkenly stumbling over to their shared bed towering over her.

She flinched back as if she had been struck. Her hands protectively going to her stomach shielding her bump.

Yes, Ida is pregnant again. She has just entered her second trimester.

She is not afraid of Zayn, but she has never experienced this side of him before. They argue, but he has never been so aggressive before. That made her naturally defensive of their child growing in her womb.

He was too far gone in anger to notice. He had continued his tangent. Not once had he noticed the tears streaming down his wife's face. Not once had he noticed how broken-hearted she was until the palm of her hand collided with his cheek.

He fell silent with his head turned to the side from the force of the blow.

"Am I really that bad? Am I, Zayn? Tell me. I wanna know, because I have to be for you to stand here and talk to me like I am a damn dog. I have to be some kind of bad for you tell me that you you should of just stayed with your ex. Seven years. I gave your ass seven years of my life and you tell me some shit like that. Don't speak, i'm talking now!", she quipped raising her hand silencing him when he tried to speak.

"I can't believe you. I don't even know who you are anymore. Since you wanted to talk so bad. Since you wanted to rant and rave, tell me why do you have the scent of another woman on you? Did you fuck her? Is that why you came home later than usual? Was I-was I not enough for you anymore? Don't be quiet on me now, Zayn. Tell me", she spat, her voice quivering.

He ran a hand through his hair. A nervousness trait of his she noted.

"I'm not cheating on you, Ida. I know that shit has been fucked up between us lately, but I wouldn't do that to you, us, our family. You're pregnant with my child. Why would I do that to you?", he cooed, his speech slurring slightly.

She stared at him. Her clear brown eyes boring into his red hazel ones. She knew the answer, and her heart crumbled inside of her chest.

"I want a divorce", she stated, fat tears spilling from her eyes cascading down her cheeks.

"I-"

"Don't", she whispered, her voice cracking.

A sob tore from the depths of her soul. She covered her mouth with her hand so as to not wake her sleeping children. She did not care if he saw or heard. He was her husband after all, at least he had been. She wanted him to see what he had done to her.

His heart fell out of his ass as he watched his wife crumble before his very eyes. He would not admit it aloud, but he had fucked up. He could admit that to himself. He had fucked up.

He had never meant to hurt Ida. He loved her more than life itself. Yet, he had hurt her so badly. Even if he had wanted to say so, she would not believe him. Not after this. Not after she looked him in the eyes and saw the guilt that he was harboring inside of himself.

"I'm sorry", he murmured not knowing what else to say.

Her cries rose in volume. She began to wail. He had just confirmed what she had knew the moment she looked into his eyes. One of her worse nightmares had finally come to pass.

"Leave", she whimpered.

"Bab-"

"Leave!", she spat.

"I'm not leaving you here alone to cry", he protested.

"Why!? You've been doing it! Why is now any different!? Get the fuck outta my house, Zayn!", she angrily barked, harshly wiping at her tears with the back of her hands.

He opened his mouth then closed it not having a refute. She had been right. And for the first time since he has begun to neglect her and take her for granted. Zayn realized just how wrong he had been treating his wife.

Wordlessly he turned and left. He left like she had told him to after kissing their two sleeping children goodbye.

She heard the door close as he left. She heard the sound of his car's engine as he started it and she heard it until she could not anymore as had finally left. She cried herself to sleep once again.

Four months later their divorce was finalized. He had not tried to fight her nor had he tried to fight for her. Zayn had signed the divorce papers when they arrived to his house and sent them back the same day.

This hurt Ida even more. She had hoped that he would fight for them. But she was sadly disappointed when he made no efforts to do so. She was now a single mother of three with a broken heart.