CHAPTER 29: CHAPTER 29: CLINGY MORNINGS AND CAREFUL LIES

When I’d walked far enough to be sure Zayn wouldn’t hear a word, I finally raised the phone back to my ear.

"Who’s on the phone?" I asked, my voice flat.

A pause.

Then came that voice, calm, too familiar, and still carrying that same arrogance underneath it all.

"Don’t pretend you don’t know who you’re speaking to."

I rolled my eyes, already irritated.

"I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking."

The drama dropped from his tone almost instantly, like he knew I wasn’t playing along.

"It’s Nicki," he said.

Hearing his name out loud did something strange to my chest. I didn’t panic. I didn’t smile. I didn’t even flinch. But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel something shift deep inside me.

Still, I kept it cool.

"So you still have my number," I said.

He ignored the comment. Typical.

"We need to see. And talk."

"Talk about what?" I asked, my voice calm but guarded.

Again, there is no answer. Just silence.

"It’s important. It’s about what happened four years ago."

Four years ago.

Those words landed like a stone in my stomach. My throat tightened, but I didn’t let it show in my voice.

"I’m busy these days," I told him honestly, "but I’ll make time. I’ll let you know when I’m free."

"Okay," he said quickly. "I just hope you reach out soon."

The call ended without goodbyes.

I stayed where I was for a while, standing silently in the hallway. I let his words echo in my head, testing them, flipping them over.

Four years ago.

I didn’t feel angry. I didn’t feel relief.

But I did feel something.

Something like... unfinished business.

Still, I wasn’t going to let it ruin the morning I had with Zayn.

I slid the phone into my pocket and pushed the memory of the call into the back of my mind. Then I climbed the stairs again, heading back to my room.

When I opened the door, Zayn was already out of bed. He stood at the wide glass window, shirtless, his back to me, quietly taking in the morning view of the city below.

I strolled toward him, the soft light from the tall windows casting a warm glow across his silhouette. Zayn was standing with his hands in his pockets, gazing out at the city skyline like he belonged there, like he owned the world and yet was still mine to hold.

Without saying a word, I wrapped my arms around his waist from behind and pressed a kiss on his bare back. He smiled at the touch.

"What’s the kiss for?" he asked, his voice still soft from sleep.

"It’s for appreciating everything about you," I whispered. "You’re so perfect, Zayn."

He turned to face me, his gaze curious. "Who was that on the phone earlier?" he asked, not pressing, just curious.

I smiled and answered lightly, "Just business. Nothing serious."

He nodded without pressing further.

A brief silence stretched between us before I tilted my head and asked, "What are your dos and don’ts in a relationship, Zayn?"

He chuckled. "You’re being too impatient. We haven’t even started dating officially, and you’re already interviewing me like we’re married."

"I just want to know," I said, brushing my forehead gently against his.

He stepped closer, brushing his knuckles gently along my cheek. He smiled, a small shake of his head. "When it’s time, we’ll talk about everything. You’ll know everything. Just let it come naturally."

I smiled and nodded, leaning my forehead against his. He closed his eyes for a second, and when they opened again, they were filled with warmth.

He kissed me softly.

Then his phone buzzed. He glanced at it and said, "I think I have to head to the restaurant."

I pulled back a little, pretending to pout.

"I haven’t given you permission to go to work yet."

He laughed. "Oh really? Then... can I go to the restaurant now, Mr. Bossy?"

"No, you can’t," I teased.

"Why not?"

"Because you have to cook for your husband before leaving. Do you want to leave your husband on an empty stomach?"

That made him laugh harder. "Since when did you become my husband?"

"I shrugged with a grin. I’ll be your husband very soon," I said. "Because once we start dating officially, I won’t wait more than a few months before putting a ring on your finger."

He grinned but then cracked a joke that wiped the smile from my face.

"Put a ring on my finger? Like your father will ever allow that."

My laughter died in my throat. I had almost forgotten the truth, how complicated things really were. The mention of my father brought it all crashing back.

Zayn immediately noticed the shift in my expression. His smile faded slightly as he quickly changed the subject, trying to lift the mood again.

"My darling husband," he said, gently cupping my face, "what should I prepare for your breakfast?"

His words broke through the cloud, pulling a soft smile from me.

"Maybe eating you again will fill my stomach," I teased, raising an eyebrow.

He laughed. "Evric, be serious! What should I cook for you?"

"I’ll eat anything," I told him softly, "as long as you’re the one who cooked it, Zayn."

He smiled, that warm, boyish smile of his that always melted something in me. "Okay then," he said, turning toward the door to head downstairs.

But before he could take a step, I grabbed his hand gently.

"Kiss before you leave."

He turned his head, eyes narrowing slightly with amusement. "Why are you suddenly being clingy, Evric?"

I didn’t answer with words. I just leaned in.

He kissed me.

Slow, tender at first, until it wasn’t. Our breaths tangled, our lips searching like we’d never kissed before. My fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, not wanting to let go just yet.

Then he slowly pulled away, his forehead resting against mine.

"I need to go prepare your breakfast now," he whispered, voice still slightly breathless.

He dressed up, and then he left.

The silence that followed settled like mist around me.

I was alone again with my thoughts.

I told myself seeing Nicki wasn’t a big deal. It was just a conversation. Nothing more. I’d pick an open place, somewhere casual. No emotions. No drama.

We were just going to see each other and talk.

That’s all.

With that quiet conviction, I got up, straightened my shirt, and made my way downstairs.

The food was ready faster than I expected, but of course, it was Zayn. He made everything look effortless. The scent filled the entire house, buttery croissants, scrambled eggs with cream cheese and herbs, crispy turkey bacon, and a side of avocado toast sprinkled with chili flakes. There was even freshly squeezed orange juice on the table.

He served it all with that casual confidence of his, then sat beside me. We ate together, laughing in between bites, talking about everything and nothing.

Just as I placed my fork down, still smiling, still caught in the warmth of our little bubble.

The front door opened.

It was Nuala, stepping in with a knowing smirk on her face... and right behind her was Chrisly, eyes scanning the space like she already knew something was up.

"Nuala gasped in surprise and shouted..."