Zayn's POV
He better not. I swear to God, if someone lets this slip to Charlie before I have the chance to, all Hell is going to break loose- promise you. "I'd expect Genevieve to tell her, maybe even Lou to let it slip, but not you. That'd be so fucking shitty and you know it."
"No, it'd be shitty for you to go on and play Little House on the Fucking Prairie after you've put your dick in everything and now it's finally catching up to you being that someone else is pregnant. And lest we forget your decision to not tell the girl you intend to marry," he says. "But go ahead; continue to tell me how shitty I am. Please."
"Whatever."
"Look. I get it; it was before Charlie, well...during Charlie, whatever the hell, but, she still deserves to know...like, right now...so therefore, I'm looking out for one of my friends," he continues, butting out my blunt. My blunt. "Well, both of my friends, really."
"Or you're jealous..." The words slip out before I can stop them.
He turns to look at me with the most murderous glare I think I've ever seen in my life. "Oh, I'm jealous? So being a decent human being and trying to stop somebody-who's already had a shit ton of shit thrown their way, mind you- from facing something else is now called jealousy?" he spits. "Well if it is then I must be one jealous son of a bitch."
"I fucking told you I'd tell her, now drop it!" I shout, slamming my hands on the railing. I'm a petulant child, I know it, but fuck it.
"Yeah well you better pull your thumb out of your ass and do it before someone else ruins the fun and you're left holding an engagement ring in the palm of your hand instead of it being on her finger where it belongs."
*
Harry left not too long ago; one of the 'joys' of our relationship is that we can curse each other out and everything always blows over by the end of the day. I know deep down he only wants what's best for me and that's Charlie; she's my entire world and then some, and I know he only wants to protect that.
So now here I sit by my lonesome-the babies have long gone to bed. Charlie's still not home yet, and I'm exhausted now more than ever, but I wanna stay up and wait for her.
I've known about this kid for a week and he's the only thing I can think about. I know I need to get a test like Harry said, obviously, but I'm scared I guess is what it comes down to; there's so much at stake, and it's almost easier for me to just accept it, if that makes sense. You know when you've pseudo-accepted something, but it's a completely different kind of acceptance than when it's actually proven to be true? Yeah, that's me right now.
I haven't brought the idea of a DNA test up to Genevieve, and that's only because she was hammered when she revealed him to me that night and I didn't want to add insult to injury. And can we be honest? She's gonna get pissed when I demand one. But she has to see things from my perspective: what guy wouldn't take a test, especially in this kind of situation? I mean, I even took a test after I came to my senses with Charlie, and I know she wouldn't just pin a baby on anybody.
God, why was I such an idiot back then? (I'm still an idiot, but like...less). But seriously? I would smack the shit out me two years ago if I could. But then I think about how if I didn't sleep around, I never would have met Charlie. And I don't know where I'd be now if I hadn't hooked up with her that night, I suppose.
"Daddy, I can have some juice please?" I wouldn't have my son, that's for sure. I look to the bottom of the steps, finding Marley rubbing his eyes with his dark hair sticking up in every direction.
