Destacar Lover | Zarry

Chapter : 17

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Harry pressed soft kisses on my forehead, breaking the gentle silence.

"Are you ready to tell me about your sudden breakdown?" he asked. 

I burrowed my face into Harry's nape, mumbling, "It's nothing, just stress made me freak out."

Harry sighed and gently pushed me away, making me look at him. 

He brushed his thumb along my jawline and said, "It's futile to force you to open up, but just so you know, I am always here for you." 

I stiffly nodded and then cautiously asked, "Harry, are you hiding something from me?"

Harry frowned, replying, "What do you mean?" 

I pressed on, asking, "Do you love me?"

He seemed a bit annoyed, saying, "What's up with you? Asking weird questions?" 

I let out a dry laugh, replying, "I just want to know if you love me enough to share every important part of your life with me."

Harry rolled his eyes, frustration evident in his tone.

"I love you, and that's the truth. Just because I hide our relationship from the public doesn't mean you're not important. You're the love of my life and my husband. How could I hide anything from you?"

I smiled weakly at Harry and asked, "Are you sure you're not hiding anything from me?" 

Harry cupped my cheeks and began, "I swear on my love—"

But I interrupted him, sitting up. "It's okay, Harry. You don't have to swear on anything." 

Harry sat up with a frown, trying to touch me, but I sneakily avoided his touch, leaning against the bedpost. I told him I was tired and asked if I could have some alone time.

Harry, with concern in his eyes, nodded. "It's okay. Take all the time you need, Zayn. If you want anything, just call me." He leaned down to give me a quick peck and left the room.

After a few minutes, I stood up, slid off the bed, locked the door, and walked towards the bed, gently laying down and sliding under the duvet. 

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Resting my arm on my forehead, I stared at the ceiling, contemplating how Harry could fake swearing on our love. 

It was evident he was hiding something, something he deemed unimportant to share with me. A soft laugh escaped me, feeling like my head would explode.

With a huff, I got up and massaged my forehead, leaning against the bedpost with a sigh. 

Staring at the door, I softly mumbled, "This is not the Harry I fell for. My Harry used to tell me everything about his life, whether it was a silly story about cats on the streets or as serious as making sure I was the first to know about his first contract with Columbia Records for his debut album."

A tear rolled down my cheek as I wondered where I went wrong and if these signs meant Harry didn't love me anymore. 

I glanced around the room, where we first said "I love you" when I was seventeen and Harry was sixteen. 

I thought about how Harry was seemingly strong enough to lie about our love. I couldn't help but feel my own weakness for not allowing him to complete his sentence. 

Five years into our marriage, and it wasn't the first time Harry had ignored me, yet it felt like with each passing year, the ignorance and my diminishing importance in Harry's life were growing more pronounced with every ticking second.