I WOKE UP WITH WARMTH surrounding me. Last time I checked, I was on a park bench, shivering from the cold and crying my eyes out at what I had just discovered about what my life was like. Now? I was in a somewhat cozy bed that had nice covers and pillows on it (and around me). The room around me was delicate looking and everywhere I looked, it was a creamy white and red. Nothing like the black and white room at the house I woke up in for this horrible, horrible "dream".
The crusties in my eyes continued to get on my nerves as I tried to look around at my other surroundings, but the fuzzy sight reminding me that I didn't have my glasses on. Sitting up, I noticed that I was the only one in the bed. There was a window and a dresser to my left and a nightstand to my right. From what I could tell from the evidence of the window, it had to be midday.
Yawning and pushing my hair away from my face, I get out of the comfy bed and made my way to - what I assumed was - the bathroom. Just from walking from the bed to the bathroom, I decided that I was in some kind of fancy motel, and that someone had brought me here.
Pushing away the thoughts of thinking about who had brought me here (making me think of Harry, if you know what I mean), I decided that a nice shower would do me some good. But first, I wanted to see what kind of state I was in (you never know what you look like when you first wake up until you look into a mirror, and that's the truth).
Running a hand through my unruly hair, I turn on the light to the bathroom and almost have a heart attack. My hair was hideous to look at (almost resembling Medusa's due, minus the snakes) and the makeup I had had on, made me look like a raccoon. My face was still bright red and tear streaked. I bit my lip, just looking at my pathetic excuse of a reflection that I once thought was a miracle, but now, I found it a bloody nightmare.
My worst one yet.
I decided to wash my face instead of taking a shower. When I had scrubbed away all the makeup and evidence of my crying on my face (mainly my cheeks), I inhaled a deep breath to calm my nerves as much as possible. I took a hair tie that I had placed on my wrist before we left the house, and pulled my curly mess into a point tail, keeping it out and away from my face.
To be honest, I could care less what I looked like right now.
Sniffling, I wipe away a few tears from my cheeks and also my face, slowly trying to get myself to stop the waterworks. I know for a fact I looked so pathetic at the state I was in. Some people would probably be feeling bad for me, but even I know how all of this was going to end.
In the end, Zayn and I will talk it out, somehow resulting into a fight and making my pathetic ass cry in hysteria as he looks at me in disgust. When I can finally form coherent words, Zayn will say that we're done and over with and he never wants to see me again. He might even wish me to have a good life with Harry, meaning it sarcastically. Then, I'll be begging to him, down on the floor and on my knees, saying that Harry meant nothing to me and Zayn was the only man I ever wanted (which is true). And finally, he'd give me one last look of 'I can't believe you' and walk out that door to never speak or even think of me again.
For me, I'd probably drowned in my own river of tears after all of that.
Blinking back newfound tears, I straighten up and look at myself hard in the mirror, trying to come up with a good pep talk for myself. Okay Vallin. You screwed up, well . . . "Fucked" up is more like it. But you can always fix it. You just have to talk with Zayn and everything will be alright. You can do this. You are a strong girl.
As soon as I told myself those words, I knew that they were a solid lie and that they were not true. I was a pathetic excuse for a wife - for any man for that matter. I just wished that I could take it all back and I would never have even thought about doing anything with Harry . . . Or even having an affair.
What did Zayn ever see in me? Honestly, he doesn't deserve any of this. But how do I? What did I do to deserve a punishment like this? All because I laughed at Alex and Marissa for not having their notes and being ready for their finals? Why is it always me who screws up everything around me in my life? Why can't I do one, at least one, thing right in my whole entire life . . ?
I guess that was my plan. Put myself down and wallow in my self-pity. Isn't it such a smart and perfect plan to have and follow through with? I'm just so smart, I could be Einstein's daughter.
Not.
"Vallin? Vallin, where are you," I heard a familiar voice call out. It was definitely a male voice with a British accent. It was deep and smooth, sending chills down my back as I couldn't help but suck in a giant breath.
It's now or never Vallin. You have to face the music at one point or another. Might as well do it now than later to get it over with . . .
Taking one last look at my reflection (oh how I was going to miss it very much), I gave myself a smile, then went back to my neutral face, ready to go out and talk to the man I ruined everything with.
This is going to be pure hell . . .
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I didn't know what to say to him. 'I'm sorry' wasn't going to cut it. But I knew silence wasn't either. The question that was on my mind though, was how I would start this long and terrible conversation. I just wish that I could come out and say, 'Look Zayn, I'm sorry I messed up. Could you ever forgive me and then we could just act like it never happened?'
But that would never work in a million years.
And if he asked questions about why, how, when, where . . . I wouldn't be able to answer them. I didn't even know Zayn and Perrie had broken up, so how was I suppose to know when and where Harry and I had sex? And why? I'm still confused on that myself . . . But I guess I could just say what Harry had told me. That I just felt unnoticed by him and that he wasn't spending enough time with me. Shit, even I know that's not a good enough excuse, and Harry looked like he wasn't hiding anything else either.
You could always tell him the truth, my subconsciousness mumbled to me.
Yeah, I probably could tell him that I just wished on a star when I was fifteen and then I was magically transported through the time and the space continuum and just happened to end up here, in this time and with all this drama that "future" me had caused the love of my entire existence, and that I have no recognition of anything that's happened in the last few years whatsoever (because he'll totally believe that).
Oh, and let's not forget to include that I still don't know how to get back!
God, so help me . . . Please. I begged to myself.
Trying to ignore the thoughts my brain had started to conjured up, I turned my attention to the English man sitting down in front of me. He had on another graphic t-shirt with a pair of navy blue joggers and a gray and white varsity jacket (he still looked so fucking good in those). From what I could tell, Zayn had been in a fight. The small scabs on his knuckles and the few bruises on his jaw told me so. My gut told me that he beat the shit out of Harry after I ran. I tried to force away the smile on my face that the thought had caused.
Biting my lip, I decided that it was best to tell the truth so that we can be confused together (or at least so that I can get this big ass weight lifted from my chest and so he can mark me as 'crazy').
"Zayn," I said, catching his attention. I continued to bite my lip, trying to figure out how to make any sense out of it. I'm still confused about everything myself. "I . . . I don't know how to explain any of this. I don't even know where I should start, really." I ran a hand down my face and then through my hair. "But I do know one thing," I look right into his water eyes with so much guilt, a person shouldn't experience it in their lifetime. "This is not who I am."
At first, he just looks at me confused and doesn't say anything. When he goes to say something, nothing comes out of his mouth as he opens and closes it like a fish out of water. "Vallin-" he tried to start when I shake my head and stand up in front of him.
"This isn't who I am; this isn't who I'm supposed to be. I don't know how I could have ever wanted to cheat on you. I don't understand any of this, I really don't. I should be at home, looking up pictures of you and gawking over your new tattoos whilst One Direction lyrics are busting up my eardrums. I should be fawning over pictures of you, wishing that I could be your girlfriend; not your wife." tears started to roll down my cheeks as I paced back and forth in front of the bed.
"I should be at home, in my bed, sulking that you're taken and that I will never even be able to meet you. I shouldn't be here - let alone your wife - causing all this drama that no one should have to go through. I should be my fifteen year old, pimpled, frizzy haired, no curvy having, insecure self!" I stopped right in front of him as I ran my hands through my hair. Tears soaked my face, making it hot around my face, as Zayn looked at me with shock, confusion, and disbelief in his eyes as he stood up, also looking at me with concern.
The look just made tears go down my cheeks faster.
Before he could call me out and say that I was lying to him, I asked him a question that would make everything crystal clear. "Zayn, I know you think that I'm lying, I wouldn't believe myself either ifI was in your shoes but . . . Haven't you ever wondered why I haven't gotten my memory back?" this question causes him to stay quiet for a whilst, not speaking. I took this as my cue to continue on. "It's because I never lost my memory in the first place! That day that you had surprised me in the shower was the day that I had somehow gotten my fifteen year old self into this body of me. I had dreams where I would wake in your arms or go on dates with you. So automatically, I thought I was dreaming. Then, as time let on and on, I realized I wasn't and I had no clue on how to get back. And I still don't!
"Right now, I'm so confused about myself that- that, I don't even know how old I am or what size shoe I wear! All I want to do is just return back to my fifteen year old self and go back to normal. Don't get me wrong; just being around you is a gift from the Gods, but I'm not where I'm supposed to be . . ."
I couldn't help the tears that cascaded down my face as I let myself fall to the bed and rest my arms on my knees. I was done, done with everything and all I wanted to do was to go home. I sat there, crying my eyes out in front of the man that I loved and had allegedly cheated on. It was pitiful and pathetic. I was pitiful and pathetic. I was so ashamed of myself, I wanted to just have the words come from his mouth and be done.
And just be alone.
But what I didn't expect him to do was sit down besides me and pull me onto his lap, petting my hair to try to calm me down. When I realized what he was doing, I had pulled away from him, drying my own tears that I had caused. He looked at me, really looked at me, before saying, "You're telling me the truth, aren't you Vallin?" I just nodded my head, not believing that he was actually considering my words right now.
He sighed, smiling a little before he kissed my forehead and laid us down on the bed. "Well, that explains all lot," I felt the vibration of his laugh as he cuddled with me.
"Wait, so you actually believe me?" I asked in disbelief. His smile made me want to forget about the rest of the world for a second.
"It does make a lot of sense Val. I'm not saying that your not confusing me, but now I understand why you have changed a lot in the past three weeks." he sighed. There was a silent pause between us as he held me close and kept his eyes closed. "The night before you 'lost your memory', I had found some papers that I couldn't believe. They were for a divorce, between you and me. I couldn't believe it at first, but then it all clicked. Why you had been away a lot and then you would distance yourself from me at times. I didn't even know you were cheating on me with one of my best mates," he chucked sadly.
"So, that's how I came up behind you in the shower that day. I thought if I showed you lots of love and affection, you wouldn't leave me. I mean, the last time we made love was our anniversary night-" I cringe, thinking back to when Harry had told me about that night. "-and I just felt like we were drifting apart. I missed you and I know I wouldn't have been able to bare through the thought of you leaving. And when the doctor claimed you had amnesia, I was so thankful that I got another chance to shower you with love and everything under the sun. I got another chance to keep you Vallin . . ." he had closed his eyes and I wiped away his tears. I felt so horrible that I even started to cry again.
"Zayn, as long as you still want me . . . I- I'll always be yours," I gave him a reassuring smile. He smiled back. "Does, does that mean, you're still mine . . ?" he couldn't help but laugh and nod, pressing his forehead against mine.
"I'll always be yours . . . "Forever and always", remember?" we both laughed, knowing well enough that I didn't remember at all. He looked down at my lips and then back into my eyes. Biting my bottom lip, I did the same and smiled at him. Before either one of us could protest, our lips had meet in a simple kiss and I knew that I was right where I was supposed to be.
Forever and always.