What He Never Said ✔️

BONUS CHAPTER

"Babe, have you seen my uniform?"

"I put it in the dryer last night! Check there!"

I scurry toward the machine and exhale a sigh of relief when I find the collared blue dress. Quickly, I slip it on and then begin to search for my tennis shoes.

"Any chance you've seen my sneakers?" I call out, flipping through the pile of footwear by the door.

I wait for his response, but I'm met with silence.

"Bowie?" I approach the bathroom, where he's been locked up for the past thirty minutes. "Bowie, are you okay? Do you need an Imodium or something?"

"...you're beautiful, and I've been crazy about you since the day we met."

What the actual fuck?

"Bowie, what are you doing in there?"

Suddenly, the door swings open. My blushing boyfriend greets me, his hands tucked behind his back.

"Hey, baby," he says, flashing a nervous smile.

I fold my arms over my chest. "Who were you talking to?"

Feigning innocence, he shrugs his shoulders. "I wasn't talking to anyone."

"Yeah, right," I scoff. "I heard you. Were on the phone?"

"No, I wasn't on the phone."

"Then who the fuck did you call beautiful?" I demand, growing agitated. It isn't like Bowie to hide things from me. We tell each other everything. Hell, we overshare.

"I was just, you know, talking to myself," he finally says. "It's part of my new, uh, skin care routine. Anyway, I gotta run. I love you, and I'll see you tonight, okay?"

He kisses my cheek before rushing out the door. He doesn't have work or class today. I have no idea where he's going or why he's acting so strange.

But god damn it, I'm determined to find out.

<>*<>*<>*<>*<>

Three days have passed, and Bowie is still behaving like a fucking loon.

He disappears for hours at a time without an explanation. He doesn't answer his phone or respond to texts. He even changed his passcode—and I know, because I tried to go through the damn thing.

Fuck, I'm turning into a crazy girlfriend.

In typical Zayna fashion, I'm assuming the worst. I always do this. Before Bowie, I self-sabotaged every good thing in my life. I kept people at a distance because I thought it would keep me safe. All it did was keep me isolated.

Maybe I'm just being paranoid. Maybe Bowie isn't hiding anything at all. Perhaps it's some sort of quarter-centennial crisis that's making him spend more time alone and engage in egotistical skin care regimens.

Yeah, I don't believe it, either.

He arrives home late that night. I don't ask where he's been, and he doesn't tell me. In fact, he barely talks to me at all. He's eerily silent as we put dinner together, sending my suspicions through the roof.

"What's going on with us?" I demand, dropping the spatula onto the stovetop.

He turns to me, his eyebrows raised. "Baby, what are you talking about?"

He seems genuinely confused, and for half a second, I regret lashing out.

But then his phone rings, and he silences the call so fast it makes my head spin.

"Aren't you gonna answer it?" I hiss.

"Of course not. I'm talking to you."

"Right. Wouldn't want your other girlfriend to overhear our conversation."

His eyes turn into saucers. "I have another girlfriend? This is news to me."

"I'm being serious, Bowie!" I exclaim, running my fingers through my hair. "You've been acting weird for days. Did you meet someone else? Are you... are you falling out of love with me?"

Tears sting my eyes. I turn off the stove and exit the apartment, ignoring his pleas for me to stay.

<>*<>*<>*<>*<>

It's after midnight when I finally return home.

I expect Bowie to be sound asleep. Instead, I find him sitting at the table with his face in his palms. When he hears the door click behind me, he stands up so fast that he almost falls out of his chair.

"Baby, I've been so worried," he breathes out. He doesn't touch me. He knows better.

"Yeah, well, I was upset. I needed some time to think."

"Are you still upset?"

I shrug my shoulders. "A little, but I feel better."

"Good, because I think we need to talk."

I nod my head in agreement and allow him to lead me to the sofa. He kneels down in front of me and takes my hands in his, holding onto them like he's afraid I'll disappear.

"I'm sorry I made you feel insecure these past few days," he begins. "Please know that I would never cheat on you. Ever. You're the love of my life, Zayna. Even if we broke up, I'd never find anyone else who makes me feel like you do."

"Then why have you been so secretive?" I ask softly, too exhausted to be mad. "What is it that you're not telling me?"

He exhales a deep sigh. "God damn it."

"Bowie, you're freaking me out. Just tell me!" I beg him.

His aquamarine gaze meets mine. A megawatt smile lights up his face as he reaches into his pocket.

"Zayna Romney," he whispers, "I am completely and irreversibly in love with you. You're the girl for me. Always have been, always will be."

A gasp escapes my lips when he lifts his hand to expose a black velvet box. Tears fill my eyes once again, but these are happy ones.

"Baby, will you do me the honor of—?"

"Yes!" I shriek before he even has a chance to open the box. I throw my arms around his neck before smashing my lips against his. "Yes! A thousand times yes!"

"You didn't even let me finish asking the question!"

"It doesn't matter. I already know my answer."

I sob harder as he slips the elegant diamond on my finger. It fits perfectly, like it was made for me.

"So this is why you've been acting so sketchy?" I sniffle, my eyes glued to the gorgeous ring. "You were planning to propose?"

He nods sheepishly before replying, "I was hoping to make it more romantic than this, but I couldn't bear the thought of you thinking I didn't love you anymore."

"Lucky for you, I don't care for grand romantic gestures, anyway," I say with a smirk. "You know me. I'm not into big shindigs. I haven't been planning my Cinderella wedding since I was a toddler or any dumb shit like that."

He rolls his eyes. "And that's why you're my girl."

"Correction! That's why I'm your fiance." I wiggle my finger, showing off the ring that he literally picked out for me.

"My fiance," he repeats, resting his forehead against mine. "I should probably tell my other girlfriend that I'm getting married."

I resist the urge to smack him. "Keep talking like that, mister, and you won't be."