*Kylie’s POV*

“What. The. Fuck. Is. This?” I snarled at Zayn, throwing the magazine at him, holding back tears that threatened to overwhelm.

“What?” Zayn started, but gasping as he looked at the magazine, his eyes going wide. “Shit. Kylie, it’s not what it looks like-”

“Oh, because it looks like you’re making out with Bridget on four occasions!” I snapped at him, grabbing the magazine from him and pointing it back in his face.

There were four pictures of Zayn and Bridget; all of them seemed to be taken on different days. They both had different clothes on in each picture; meaning it was taken at different times.

One was just a normal picture of them kissing, her hands raveled behind Zayn’s back and his hands on her shoulders. The next one was more intense, she was pushed up against a wide column, her hands in Zayn’s hair pulling him closer and his on her shoulders again. The third one was the worst; she was sitting on him, straddling him as she kissed him. His hands were on her sides. They were on a little couch in the studio – a couch I had kissed him on more than once. The fourth one was almost a replica of the first one, just in a different location with different clothes.

“Kylie, it’s honestly not…”

“What the fuck is it then?” I yelled.

“She kissed me.” He said.

“Four times.”

“Yes!” Zayn pleaded, trying to catch my eye.

“And you didn’t tell me?” I snapped, not believing him at all.

“I didn’t want to upset you. I know how much you hate her.” Zayn’s giant hazel eyes stared at me intensely, willing me to believe him.

“Did you not consider that telling me would be a good fucking plan considering the media is always right by you and I would find out somehow?”

“Kylie, I didn’t kiss her!”

“Did you kiss her back at all?” I asked him, scared for his answer.

“Once.” He sighed, and I felt my face scrunch up in a mixture of disappointment and a white-hot flash of pain. The part angry, part sad tears that were blurring my vision overflowed just a little so that a few splashed down my cheeks. “We had just got into a fight and she kissed me and pulled me against the wall and I kissed her back just for a minute. Then I realized what I was doing. Kylie, I love you.”

I visibly flinched. What was I supposed to say to that? That it was okay? It was not okay.

“Ky, I believed you when you said you weren’t cheating on me with Harry.” He begged in a last-ditch effort.

“There were not pictures of me making out with Harry!” I screamed, stomping my foot on the ground like a six year old. I was so frustrated and angry and just upset that I had nothing else to do but stomp or scream.

“Kylie, we didn’t make ou-” Zayn said, a slightly irritated edge to his voice.

“I don’t trust you!” I snapped, surprising myself with how true it was at that moment. That realization hurt worse than anything, considering I trusted him more than the world less than an hour ago.

“I didn’t cheat on you!”

“The thing is, Zayn, is that you fucking did. You didn’t tell me about any of the kisses, if that’s all they were in the first place. Right there, it definitely says it’s something more. And you kissed her back! You know exactly how much I hate her and even if she’s kind of a little bit maybe pretty, she’s like 25. That’s Harry’s territory and I cannot trust you!” My voice went scary-high in the end, cracking dangerously.

“You can trust me with the world!” Zayn insisted, grabbing my wrist.

“When I was maybe pregnant, you left me! That says something. And we’ve been fighting so much lately. And now this? You cheated on me.”

“That was a mistake! I just didn’t-” He started, defending himself about the pregnancy thing that honestly, I had forgiven him for. I was just being a bitch and bringing out the worst thing he had done to me on the table. Trying to win.

“Didn’t what? Understand? Because it fucking sucked and Harry was the only one there for me!”

“I know we’ve been fighting a lot, but it’s just a rough patch. I love you more than anything in the whole world, Kylie.”

“Not enough to tell me when you’re cheating on me.”

“I’m not cheating on you, babe!” He said, his voice starting to rise along with mine.

“But you did!” I insisted. He wasn’t getting it. It wasn’t even the fact that he totally kissed her back, it’s that he didn’t tell me.

“I kissed her back once.” He said, anger clear.

“YOU DIDN’T TELL ME AND THAT’S WHAT REALLY MATTERS, FUCKTARD.” I yelled at him.

“What the hell was I supposed to say to you?!”

“I don’t fucking know! A nice ‘hey, by the way Bridget kissed me and one time I kissed her back’ would be better than me finding out and crying in the grocery store!”

“You would have gotten mad!” Zayn ran a hand through his dark quiff.

“Of course I would have! But not nearly as mad.” I snapped. He still didn’t understand that I would forgive him if he just told me rather than me finding out by the press.

“Kylie, shut up.” his voice was just as angry as mine.

Fuck you!” I yelled back at him, ten times angrier with him for telling me to shut up. At that moment, it seemed like the worst insult possible.

“Fucking listen!” Zayn snapped, frustrated. Anger was clear in his eyes now.

“I CAN’T LISTEN TO ANOTHER LIE.” I screamed, grabbing the magazine off the counter, throwing it hard at Zayn and storming back and grabbing my purse roughly off the hook. Ignoring Zayn’s calls, I stalked across the parking lot blindly, security guards running to catch up with me so the mob of fans didn’t murder me.

I had absolutely no idea where I was going, but I just needed to go somewhere that had a bar.

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