The following weeks were absolute torture. Not having Zayn around hurt more than I could have ever anticipated. It was like I'd left myself with him and the rest of me was here with Louis.
He did take care of me, though. And he'd try to make me laugh whenever he could. He still spent time with the boys every once and a while and they'd talk. From what he'd tell me, he hardly ever saw Zayn, though. They moved back into the apartment and he won't come out of our room. His room.
I cried myself to sleep nearly every night, and every night Louis would come over to sleep with me, his arm draped around me comfortingly. At first he was able to calm me when I cried, but after a while it was no use. Nothing he would say or do could make me feel better knowing that I wasn't with Zayn and that he was suffering just as much as I was.
Nathan was bigger and my baby bump was, too. I was two days away from my five month mark. I never bothered finding out the baby's gender. Not without Zayn.
My phone vibrated again next to my head. It was four in the morning. I stared at the screen and my eyes filled with tears. Zayn.
I let it vibrate and vibrate and vibrate and deep inside I wanted to answer, but I couldn't. I didn't. When it stopped ringing, it felt as though my chest collapsed in on itself and I cried. It began to vibrate again.
The photo of Zayn that had been programmed onto my phone for when he called was one of him and Nathan in the bedroom. Nathan was holding Zayn's finger in his little hand and Zayn was smiling like only a proud father could. I looked at his face and saw the way his lips curled into a perfect smile and his eyes crinkled at the corners from all those years of laughing. I wanted to reach out and touch his cheeks, but I knew that they weren't there.
The call stopped once again and Louis shifted around me. I lifted his arm off of my body and slipped out of bed onto the balcony. The air was cold and I quickly regretted not having brought something to cover up with.
Ninety nine missed calls from Zayn in the past few weeks I've been gone.
I sat on the seat outside in the cold air and stared at my phone. I didn't know why I wanted it to ring again. I wanted to feel the vibration of Zayn's attempt to talk to me. Ninety nine calls.
I knew then that maybe it was better he didn't. I knew that if he did, at the moment, I'd answer call one hundred. I'd break both our hearts again.
I looked at my phone again. Twenty five minutes passed since the last consecutive calls and I knew that he had worn himself out for the night. So I stood from the seat. Just as I was about to walk inside, the phone began to vibrate once again. I stood frozen for a moment, cellphone in hand, Zayn's and Nathan's picture on my screen. Frozen.
I don't know what compelled me, but I answered it and I pressed the phone to my face.
"You're awake," he said, his voice so much different from what I remembered.
I didn't know what to say. "One hundred calls."
"I miss you," he said to me, his voice cracking when he said the word miss.
I felt my heart break when he said that. All I could do was cry into the phone.
And I could hear him cry, too. "I didn't know what I would say if you'd answer the calls. Besides that. That I miss you. And that I still love you."
I sucked in a sharp breath. "I know. Zayn... This is hard on me too."
"I can be better."
"It wasn't you."
"We can fix this. Just please let me try," he pleaded desperately.
I wiped the tears from my cheeks violently. "I can't do it, Zayn. I miss you too. You know that. And I love you. You know that too. I just can't. It's not good for Nathan and it's not good for the baby or me or you."
"Is he alright? Nathan?" He asked, his voice quiet.
I nodded, then realized he couldn't see me. "Yes."
There was a long pause. "And the baby?"
"Growing," I answer.
I could almost see him break down. "I need you."
"Zayn..."
"Please," he cut me off. "Just please. I miss you. And I lay down in this big bed where you and I used to sleep..." He cries. "And you're not here. And Nathan's not here. And our baby isn't laying between us like before. And I can still smell you on the sheets and in the bathroom. All your things are still here..."
I cover my mouth so he doesn't hear how much I'm crying.
"I have to go," I tell him.
"Please just stay on a little longer. You don't have to say anything... Just to know you're there..."
"Okay," I sniffle.
"Okay."
And we stay like that for what seems like eternity. I know he's fallen asleep and on that balcony seat, I fall asleep too.
I wake to Zayn's voice on the other end.
"Riley? Are you there?"
"Mmhmm," I answer, wiping my eyes and squinting against the sun.
"Thank you for staying," he says, his voice sad.
I sigh. "I should go now."
"I love you, Riley."
I want to say it back. To let him know that the pain is mutual. But all I can manage is goodbye.
I walk back into the room and see Louis feeding Nathan a bottle. "Did you sleep on the balcony?"
I nod and sit by him on the bed to look at Nathan greedily sucking away at the bottle. "Zayn called."
"Did you pick up?" He asked curiously.
I clap a hand to my face, realizing exactly what I'd done. "Yes." False hope is what I did. I gave Zayn false hope.
His eyes were wide. "What happened?"
"Nothing. He misses me. I miss him. He loves me. I love him. He wants me to go back. I can't. We cried. And we slept on the line."
"You slept together?" He asked, clearly amused.
I almost laughed at how silly that sounded. "I guess we did."
He sighed and looked down at Nathan who was fast asleep. He set him down gently on the bed. "You won't reconsider? Going back? Trying again?"
I closed my eyes and let my head drop into my hands. I had already cried enough and I couldn't do it anymore. "I can't do that, Louis. The fame, the spotlight, is too much for me. My son doesn't deserve to be speculated and ridiculed and hunted down like an animal. My baby doesn't deserve it."
"Can I tell you something?" He asked, his eyes looking straight into mine.
I nodded.
He took my hands in his. "I know that my opinion may not mean much, but I think you should. I think you should try. Zayn is dying without you. He won't eat. He won't sleep. He won't leave your room. All he ever does is sit by the phone waiting... in vain. He knows that you won't call. That's what kills him most of all.
"I understand how hard it is. If I'd known what this life implied, the sacrifices I'd have to make because of it, I wouldn't have chosen it for myself. I know that he wouldn't have, either. But it's not just something you can simply walk away from. Because it's there and it always will be. Even for you. You're involved now. No matter what, you'll be a part of this for the rest of your life. Those are Zayn's children."
I didn't know whether he was finished or not, but I knew that he was right. And it sucked. It was like a was being lectured by someone who knew better than I did; who knew the truth. I'd never be able to leave this life behind. And it was my own fault. I didn't have to sleep with Zayn. I didn't have to tell him about it or fall in love with him. But I did. I did.