Chapter Fifty-Four ~ Secret Is Out And I'm Free At Last

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*Wynter's POV*

I woke up snuggled in Zayn's arms. I looked up at him and gazed at his sleeping face, lips slightly parted. He was my savior, my angel. And I loved him. Yesterday we had all reunited as a family. I had made Scarlet and Harry apologize to each other and they were stronger than ever before. Aqua and Niall seemed to be fine, which was good. Liam and Hazel never had a problem. I had called El and she literally screamed for five minutes straight. She had arrived ten minutes later, bawling her eyes out saying how much she missed me. Yes, she and Louis were good, too.

I froze when Zayn began to wake up and his eyes fluttered open. "Sorry, babe, I didn't mean to wake you," I apologized. He shook his head while smiling. "It's quite alright, love." He opened his arms and I snuggled back into them, burying my head in the crook of his neck. After a few silent moments, he asked, "No questions?"

I looked up at him, frowning slightly. "No questions," I confirmed. "l just want to forget it all. I think things are going to be better." He sighed but kissed the top of my head. "Alright. I believe you." We both got out of bed soon after that and went downstairs to get some breakfast. The whole table was piled with food when we reached it, just like it usually was. Scarlet and Harry were talking, Niall and Aqua were stuffing their faces, Louis was hitting El with one of the pancakes while she stole his carrots, and Liam and Hazel were being civil.

"l missed this," I sighed happily to myself. Zayn squeezed my hand and took a seat next to me. We had to eat small parcels since we were still recovering from not eating much the past month. I was reaching to grab another pancake when the sleeve to my cardigan shifted up, revealing the bandage. "What's that?" Zayn asked, eyebrows furrowed as he watched my wrist. I quickly placed my sleeve back over it.

"N-Nothing," I stuttered.

He shook his head. "That wasn't nothing; please just tell me, Wynter." I shook my head no, determined to keep it hidden. What if he took it the wrong way? He grabbed my wrist and ripped it off, making me yelp in pain. He was staring open mouthed at the scar across my wrist. "You didn't... he breathed in shock. Before I could say anything, he continued. "I'm done, Wynter. I'm done holding back my questions. It's one thing to do that but when you have a cutting scar on your wrist, I can't ignore that!" He met my gaze with a stern one of his own.

"Who did this to you?" he asked me calmly, but I could see he was angry on the inside. "Did you cut yourself?" I couldn't tell him; I wanted to forget everything. Plus, that would mean I'd have to tell everything. What if he looked at me differently? What if he stopped loving me because of my past? Instead of answering, I shot up from my seat and sprinted out of the house.

Why is it that I always run from my problems? Oh, yeah, it's an easy solution. I heard people calling for me, but I had already taken a pair of car keys: Aqua's, and hopped into the Nissan. I shoved the key in the ignition just as Zayn burst out of the door and floored it away from there. I already knew where I was going. This place had always been a last resort kind of thing because the guilt was the strongest when I was here, but it was the best thing to help me talk about my problems.

When I arrived at the cemetery, I parked the car against the curb and stepped out in nothing but my pajama pants and a long sleeved shirt. Arms wrapped around my small torso, I walked through the grave stones, looking for the big oak tree that marked the one I wanted. When I saw it, I sat down, knees pulled to my chest and my head resting on them.

"Hey, mum," I whispered. I ran my finger tips over the smooth surface that had been made in the bark of the tree. I then traced the letters of her name and birth to death dates. In the bottom right corner, my initials had been carved into the smooth part of her tree grave stone. Fake flowers didn't hold meaning to me; they're fake. Real flowers died. But a carving would always be there and it held meaning.

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