Until you came (Zarry) /English Version

36. Golden

There it is, the connection. The connection is golden.

I wasn't wrong. Golden. Zayn also used gold paint in this painting. Well, that's just a match. The important thing is; he also used it for the eyes. Just like his self-portrait. There are only small segments here, but they are there and an important part.

It seems like his eyes are reflected in the green ones.

Come on Gigi, you think too much about it.

What a great artist he is and what a story he tells. In this case he tells a sad story. A story about an outdated marriage. Everything makes sense again...his behavior, the changes, the conversation with Louis.

But why does he paint himself so gloomy, while the other painting shines in bright colors?

I leave the studio in this state, don't cover the paintings. Distressed I go back into the living room, pour myself a glass of cognac and drink it in one go. The fears at the time have now been realised. My happy marriage is a farce.

Once again I try to reach my husband. The call remains unanswered.

I search for cigarettes in the drawer. I feel like smoking. My fluttering nerves are longing for calm. Somewhere these damn cigarettes must still be! Zayn always has a supply of cigarettes. Impatient, I throw the whole drawer out. I am so agitated. In the bottom drawer I finally find what I'm looking for. I hastily light one up and blow out the poisonous smoke.

He must be having an affair, I'm pretty sure of that. But with whom? Harry? No, can't be. Zayn loves women way too much for that. Our last sex was a long time ago. Normally Zayn would be annoyed about it. He loves sex. So where exactly is he looking for sexual variety?

Taylor

I feel like someone rang our bell. Do I dream? Half asleep I look at the clock. Harry snores quietly next to me and as always heard nothing. It is shortly after three in the morning. Who could it be at this time of night? Maybe an emergency or is it just a dream?

The doorbell rings again.

Drowned, I get up, put on my robe and run downstairs. As I look through the spyhole, I see Gigi standing at our door. What is she doing here?

"Gigi! What are you doing here at this hour? Did something happen ?"

"Sorry to burst in, Taylor, but I am looking for Zayn.", she says in a whiny voice.

"Zayn? Why would you think that he's here?" I ask in surprise.

"He is not at home. When I came in the evening, the house was empty. At first I didn't think anything of it when he was not at home. However, since he still isn't there, I'm seriously worried," she sobs.

"Come in, my Dear.

The blonde enters the hallway and goes into the living room.

"May I offer you something, a tea maybe?"

"No thanks, Taylor," she replies and sits down on the sofa, her hands in her lap.

"I was hoping Zayn is with you."

I sit next to her and take her little hand in mine. I feel sorry for Gigi.

"And you have no idea where else he could be?" I want to know.

"That he sometimes comes later is not unusual at all. Normally he leaves me a message when it takes longer. But this time..."

She holds her hands in front of her face and cries bitterly. She is shaking all over.

"I expect you've tried to contact him by now, haven't you?"

"A thousand times. He didn't even answer the phone. Where can he be? Do you think Harry knows anything?"

Harry and Zayn are close. Maybe he has a clue.

"I ask him, okay. Wait a minute."

Gigi nods and looks at the clock again. Half past three and still no sign of life from her husband. Quickly I go upstairs and wake Harry up. Pretty sleepy he comes into the living room with me and greets a completely distraughted Gigi.

"What's the matter, Gigi?"

Harry is nervous. His voice cracks and he looks at our neighbour with excitement.

"Harry, do you know where Zayn is? He didn't come home. I'm worried something might have happened. I can't reach him," she howls and throws herself into a sofa cushion.

My husband caringly sits next to her and strokes her back to calm her down.

"What are you saying? He is not at home?

Suddenly the mood changes. The curly head is restless, rubbing his hands and running around.

"Taylor, I'm afraid I can't help you either. We didn't see each other today."

My husband seems as desperate as she does. He takes his phone from the hallway and stares at it.

Gigi asks, "Has he contacted you?" asks Gigi and her eyes flicker. She doesn't give up hope of hearing something positive from Harry.

"No, he hasn't contacted me either," he whispers.

"What do we do now? Shouldn't we better call the police," I throw in.

"I don't know if that's necessary," Harry replies. "I mean, Zayn is a grown man, isn't he?"

"Maybe he's lost in some pub and totally drunk. That would be possible, wouldn't it?", he adds.

We nod.

"I'm going to look for him," Harry suddenly says. "You wait here."

He runs to the top floor, dresses and then comes down again. Just as he's about to leave, there's a knock on the front door.

From the corner of my eye I can see him opening the door and then saying:

"Zayn!"