Spaces Between Us [ZARRY]

Chapter 10: Harry

I bit back a laugh.

He might only be five, but Ezra already understood the emotional calculus of our family better than most adults ever had. He'd picked it up faster than I expected not because I taught it to him, but because he lived in it.

My father was never cruel. He was never kind either. He was present in ways that mattered on paper-birthdays, holidays, stiff family photos in tailored suits. He remembered Ezra's school name, paid for his private lessons, sent him books wrapped in ribbon and branded tissue. But it was never about Ezra. It was about the name. About the heir.

He saw my son not as a child but as a future-a polished, well-mannered continuation of the family legacy. That was the extent of his affection. Polite investment.

And Ezra felt that, too. He never said it, but he knew the difference between someone who loved him and someone who merely acknowledged him.

...

By the time I pulled into the drive, Zayn's car was trailing just behind-too deliberate to be coincidence, too predictable to be surprising. He didn't beat us here, but he might as well have, the way he parked with all the intent of someone who had rehearsed the moment in his head a dozen times.

Ezra let out a dramatic groan as I shifted into park. "Oh my God, he is following us Daddy."

I turned to him, already tired. "Go inside, darling."

Ezra didn't budge. "Are you going to fight him?"

"No."

"Shame," he muttered, unbuckling with exaggerated disappointment. He pushed the door open, then paused just before hopping out. "Want me to tell him you're busy forever?"

That pulled a quiet huff from me. "No need. He won't listen."

Ezra exhaled in pure five-year-old exhaustion, shook his head, and headed up the path without another word. Not once did he glance toward Zayn's car. No curiosity, no acknowledgement. Just a smooth, pointed walk to the door like he had better things to do.

I stepped out of the car with no urgency, shutting the door behind me with the same quiet control I applied to everything else. My cuff had twisted slightly while driving, so I took a moment to straighten it, letting the silence settle before I turned.

Zayn had already exited his car. He stood just beyond the edge of the driveway, his arms folded tightly across his chest, his jaw locked in place like he was holding something in that would only come out wrong if he let it. He hadn't moved forward, but his entire posture said he wanted to. He wanted something. A word, a glance, a break in the surface. Anything.

I didn't give him one.

My gaze remained fixed on the front door as I walked the path, steps even, pace unhurried. My body language didn't shift. My shoulders stayed square. My breath stayed steady. I could feel him watching me, but I refused to let that carry any weight.

"Harry."

I kept walking.

"Harry."

The second repetition came faster, more pressed. Still, I didn't break stride.

I heard him follow. His footsteps sped up behind me, less cautious now, carried more by irritation than thought.

"For fuck's sake, you can't keep ignoring me."

His voice wasn't raised, but the frustration in it cracked against the air like a thread pulled too tight. Even so, I didn't react. I didn't turn. I let him walk behind the silence I had built between us.

Then he grabbed my wrist. It wasn't forceful, but it wasn't tentative either. Unthinking. Like his hand moved before he considered what it meant to touch me now.

I turned, not abruptly, not in anger. Just with the full intention of being seen. Our eyes met, and I let mine stay there. Not narrowed, not angry. Just steady. Quietly final.

"You need to be more careful, Malik," I said, voice calm but flat. "You're on private property. If you touch me again, I will have you removed."

He didn't release me right away. His fingers lingered just long enough to make a point I had no interest in understanding. But eventually, they loosened.

"You wouldn't," he said, the words more habit than belief.

I adjusted my cuff, gaze never leaving his. "Wouldn't I."

The pause that followed didn't need explanation. Something in his face shifted. Not much but enough. Just enough to show he was beginning to realize that the person standing in front of him now didn't belong to his past.

He had expected resistance. He hadn't expected this kind of ease. He hadn't expected me to look at him like he was just another problem, solvable and irrelevant.

He took a step forward. Not threatening. Not defiant. But insistent in the way people get when silence starts to corner them.

"I know."

His voice was quieter now, like volume might make it more believable.

I held his gaze. I didn't blink.

"Know what," I asked, my voice as even as ever. "Because whatever you think you've figured out, I can promise you...you don't."

He didn't respond.

The space between us stayed still, untouched.

If he had something to say, I wasn't going to help him find the words. And if he didn't, he would remain standing exactly where I left him.

Note: I want to publish a lot more chapters at once, but I don't like it when the votes and comments ain't balance. So yeah... we'll take it slow