CHAPTER 220: CHAPTER 220: THE PRICE OF FORGETFULNESS

~Evric’s POV~

"Babe? Zayn, what is it?" I asked, reaching out to touch his cheek. "You were breathing so hard. You look terrified."

Instead of answering, Zayn quickly pulled away from my hand. He stood up from the couch, moved toward the desk, and sat heavily back down on my lap, wrapping his arms tightly around my neck.

He buried his face into my shoulder. "I’m not sleeping on the couch," he mumbled, his voice muffled against my shirt. "I want a cuddle."

A gentle smile touched my lips. I pulled him closer, settling him comfortably against my chest. I wrapped one arm securely around his waist, holding him tight, and with the other hand, I returned to my laptop.

"Okay, baby," I whispered, pressing a kiss to his hair. "I’m right here. Get some rest."

I continued my work, the solid weight of Zayn against me a grounding reassurance. I typed for another few hours until the job was finally done. I quietly closed the laptop, letting out a deep sigh. Using my strength, I carefully lifted Zayn from my lap and carried him up the stairs. I didn’t wake him; I pulled back the covers and settled him gently under them. I slipped in beside him, pulling him close to my chest and cuddling him until I, too, drifted back into sleep.

I woke up early, around seven, to the sound of my phone ringing. I answered quickly, mindful of Zayn sleeping beside me.

"Yes, James, go ahead," I murmured into the phone.

It was my assistant confirming a critical, rescheduled meeting. "The client will meet at The hotel, room 1403," James confirmed. I repeated the hotel name and room number back to ensure I had it correct.

Just as I ended the call, Zayn stirred. He opened his eyes and looked up at me.

"Good morning, baby," he said softly.

I leaned down and replied with a kiss on his forehead.

He didn’t move, just stared at me for a long moment, his eyes searching mine. The gaze was intense, and I felt a flicker of the dream-induced fear from last night still clinging to him.

"What is it, love?" I asked, gently tucking a strand of hair behind his ear.

"Evric," he began, hesitating. "Do you... Do you normally like this? I mean, are you hiding anything? You worked all through the night, but now you’re awake this early. Why don’t you sleep longer?"

I assured him, pulling him closer. "I’m not hiding anything, my love. I’m perfectly fine. I’m just someone who doesn’t need to sleep for long hours, especially when there’s work to do. My mind just moves faster than my body sometimes."

He seemed to accept that, but then his expression tightened again. "I heard you talking on the phone... something about meeting someone at a hotel?"

"Yes," I answered.

He paused, clearly struggling with the next question. "Who are you going to meet?"

I was genuinely surprised. Zayn never asked such direct, probing questions. "It’s a client," I answered simply. "An important one who prefers to meet off-site."

"Okay," he said, the single word sounding unconvinced.

"Is everything okay, Zayn?" I asked, sitting up slightly.

He avoided my eyes. "I’m not going to the restaurant today. I think I’ll just wait here. But please, come back early."

"Do you want to follow me?" I offered immediately, wanting to reassure him. "You can wait in the car, or a private lounge."

He quickly shook his head. "No, it’s not safe. Not with everything going on, and especially since you’re going to see a client. It’s better if I wait at home. But please, Evric, promise you’ll return early."

"I promise," I confirmed, kissing him soundly before getting ready. "I’ll be back as soon as I can."

I left for work. My initial meeting with the client at the hotel took much longer than expected, bleeding into long hours of necessary negotiations. Afterward, my day was filled with other crucial business activities.

My friend, Thorley, had been texting me persistently, trying to set up a time to meet, and I had already promised him that day. So, after my final scheduled work activity, I met him at a quiet bar downtown. It was a mistake. We got talking about school, old times, and the kind of easy, nostalgic conversation that makes you forget your responsibilities.

Eventually, I glanced at my watch. My chest tightened. Time was long gone.

"I have to go, man. I’m late," I told Thorley, quickly bidding him farewell.

I left the bar and drove home, dread settling in my stomach.

When I stepped into the living room, it was late. Zayn was sitting on the sofa, and the moment my eyes met his, I saw the look of cold, quiet disappointment.

"Babe," I greeted him, my voice subdued.

"Evric," he replied casually, without any warmth.

He got up and went to the kitchen, returning with a plate of food, which he set on the dining table for me. "Your dinner," he said simply, then turned and walked toward the stairs.

I couldn’t wait a minute. Not with that look. "Zayn, wait." I followed up.

He was already in bed, the covers pulled up around him, his back turned to me. I sat down on the edge of the mattress.

"My meeting with the client ran really late," I started, trying to sound regretful, but omitting the bar trip. "It was critical, and then traffic was brutal."

Hearing my excuse, Zayn quickly sat up. He didn’t look at me; he looked ready to get out of the bed and walk out. I stopped him with my voice.

"Babe," I called softly.

Zayn turned, his eyes suddenly blazing. "You left me alone! I was here all morning, Evric. Nobody was here with me. I did not see anybody, not a single soul!"

"The staff is here, Zayn," I countered, surprised by his tone. "The workers are at home. What do you mean, no single soul?"

"The workers are not my boyfriend, okay?!" he shouted, and the sound of his voice hitting that pitch shocked me. I had never seen him so close to losing control.

"You didn’t call me since morning," he continued, his voice trembling. "Not even a message. You just left and forgot about me."

"Babe, I called you and texted you," I defended myself.

"Are you saying I’m lying?"

"I dare not," I said, rising to stand beside the bed.

"You called me once, Evric! And three messages over those long hours. That is so wrong! You didn’t check on me at all to see if I was okay!"

I took a step closer, reaching out to him. "I’m sorry, babe. I really am."

As I moved to hug him, Zayn flinched back, his nose wrinkling. "Did you go out to drink?"

I froze. I saw the question, the hurt, and the accusation in his eyes. I already felt exposed, and my voice came out shaking. "Yes."

"With who?"

"With... my friend."

"Fine!" Zayn roared, scrambling out of bed. "Pack your things and go and meet that friend!" He started storming toward the door.

"But this is my house!" I said, immediately regretting saying it, as it sounded like the worst possible defense.

Zayn stopped, his back ramrod straight, and slowly turned around. "Oh, I forget," he said, the sweetness of his jealousy turning to genuine fury. "Then I’m packing out!"

I stared at him, genuinely shocked. This wasn’t just playful anger; he meant it.