Gigi
I spent the whole day with my family. They live very close to us. I feel very much like company today. I don't want to be alone. Of course I didn't tell them about my issues with Zayn, but pretended to be in the ideal world. Bella, my sister, noticed immediately that something was wrong and took me aside and asked me questions. Very superficially I told her about my loneliness and of course about the fact that Zayn is withdrawing more and more and devotes himself more to his painting than to me. I didn't tell her anything about my fear that he might have an affair.
Nevertheless she felt that this confirmed her view. She had always had a low opinion of Zayn and never liked him.
Back home, I sit brooding over a fruit salad and try to eat healthy food. Since days I have hardly any appetite and force myself to eat. I just can't get this stupid necklace out of my mind. Who does it belong to? It's exactly the same with the painting. Is it possible that Harry and Zayn are in love? These crazy thoughts occupy me day and night, get on my nerves and start to make me depressed.
Taylor later invited me to dinner because Zayn is staying at the hotel for the next two days. The world around me has become unknown to me. Suddenly I don't know where I belong or who I belong to anymore.
Why did everything turn out so wrong? We were once so happy and stuck together.
It's time to get ready for dinner at the Styles'. In the mirror I see myself. My eyes are red and swollen with crying. With some make up I try to conceal my redness of the skin, not to show up as if I have been crying. I feel a bit strange, because that's where I'll definitely meet Harry. How should I behave towards him now? I don't let on. The necklace and the painting don't prove anything at all. Speculation is pointless.
Taylor
"Honey?" I'm calling for my husband from upstairs.
"What is it, Taylor?" he sounds back.
"Gigi will be here in a minute. I called her over for dinner. I hope that's not a problem for you. It occurred to me spontaneously. Zayn is in the hotel for the next days and I didn't want to leave her alone," I explain my decision to him.
I had not been waiting long before I heard footsteps coming upstairs. My beautiful husband popped his head around the door and nods in agreement and disappears into the bathroom.
Harry
I don't believe it! Taylor actually invited Zayn's wife to our place.
That's all I need!
My thoughts are still with him. Only three hours have passed since I felt his soft skin on mine. I miss him and his heart-warming laughter when he sticks his tongue between his teeth. Oh, my God, restrain yourself and your memories, Styles, before you go completely nuts. I don't like being here - just lying in his arms, breathing in his smell and feeling soft lips on my body.
I quickly shake off my thoughts and I have to keep a low profile tonight. Our relationship still has to remain secret. Still.
Taylor enters the bathroom, hands me fresh towels and chats on.
"What do you think, Harry?"
"I don't know. Maybe Zayn's just so nervous about all the hustle and bustle around him, and that's why he's staying at the hotel?"
She shakes her head suspiciously. "I don't think it's that simple. I mean, I just find that really unusual? Don't you think so? Something seems to be going wrong between the two of them," their thoughts about the Maliks tumble out of her mouth.
Without catching her gaze, I mumble into the towel in front of my face. "Are you talking about marital problems?" I ask, although I know all the answers for a long time - unlike the others.
Why do I have to talk to my wife about this of all things? I mean, it can hardly be more absurd and crazy. In this case I am the main actor. At this moment my compassion and my sense of injustice comes to the fore. I feel sorry for Gigi! I feel sorry for Taylor! I feel sorry for myself! What have Zayn and I just done? We force both our happiness and destroy the lives of others who don't know anything about all this. My stomach turns.
Before I can think any more about my miserable behavior, I feel Taylor's lips on my shoulders. "I am so happy that everything is fine between us. What do you think of a night by candlelight...just the two of us?" she whispers on my skin and looks at me meaningfully.
I try to avoid her advances. To be honest, I can hardly bear her tenderness anymore. Only one is in my head - my man. Strong arms shall embrace me. These gentle touches frighten me when they are not from him. My penchant for men has probably finally prevailed. I have never wanted to admit it. Zayn has brought this to light after all these years. The web of lies has been falling apart for a long time.
She feels rejected and asks again. "What do you think of our candlelight night ? Don't you feel like it or why don't I get an answer from you?
" Well, I don't know, Taylor. Let's see how it goes with Gigi, okay?", I reply and hope that she finally gives up with it. Far from it!
With her corner of her mouth dropped, she expresses her disappointment. " Great, Haz. Your enthusiasm is intoxicating.", she says sarcastically. "If you don't feel like togetherness, why don't you just tell me." , she moans and leaves the room quite annoyed.
Great. Now we soon have not only a depressed Gigi sitting at our table, but also my frustrated wife.
Around seven o'clock our neighbour arrives. With a pale face she slips into the house and seems even more fragile than usual. The quarrel she had with Zayn is written all over her face. Deep, dark bags under her eyes make her look older. She looks really miserable.
Pretty sheepish and exhausted she says: "Hello you two. Thank you for the invitation. I'm glad I can spend the evening with you. The house is so quiet and empty without him," she presses out.
She doesn't mention his name, avoids pronouncing it.
"Oh, it's no big deal, Gigi. We're happy when we have some company, aren't we, darling?", says Taylor, grazing the model's shoulder slightly with one hand.
"You look tired. You haven't been sleeping well, have you?" Taylor asks caringly and guides Gigi to the table.
Gigi doesn't answer, but just lower her eyelids.
At the sight of the poor Gigi my conscience whispers to me. When I see her sitting so abandoned and broken, I feel even worse. This heartbroken woman sits right in front of me and I am the one to blame, I become the adulterer, the coward and even worse... the liar. I wish I could take the weight off my shoulders, but I can't give up on Zayn even if I wanted to. My love is too strong; my feelings are too deep.
Silently, I eat the soup Taylor served. We are all sitting over steaming bowls and no one is speaking a word.
With squinting eyes and trembling lips Gigi tries to maintain her composure. From the corner of my eye I watch her face and facial expression. She tries to hold back tears. She is about to collapse, it comes to my mind. Her chin is already trembling violently. She can't stand the apparent idyll here.
Suddenly she jumps up, the bowl almost knocked over and the juice spills out of the glasses. She is shaking all over, her breath is heavy.
" I' m sorry," she whimpers and runs to the window.
Absolutely straight she stands in front of it, looking outside. Her face is reflected in the window pane. Taylor and I look at each other silently. We both don't know why she's so upset. I sense that I could be the reason. But would she have come to us if she had that suspicion?
Taylor slowly walks over to her, lays her hands on her shoulders again and tries to calm Gigi. Now she cries heartbreakingly and I still sit on my seat as if petrified and wish I didn't have to watch it. What a bad guy I am! Taylor turns to me and gives me a stern look.
"Harry, please pour us a drink," she's finally helping me out.
While I stand at the bar and mix the drinks, Gigi breaks down. No, not physically, rather mentally. With weeping eyes and drooping shoulders she screams:
"It's over. Zayn doesn't love me anymore! I know it. That's our marriage! And now you know about it. Nothing, nothing at all is okay! My whole life's just been a lie".
Oh God, my heart sinks into their boots and my wife looks as white as a sheet.
"What are you talking about, love? Zayn only wants his peace before the exhibition. Calm down and don't worry so much. You are completely wrong."
With the drinks in my hand, I go to them and try not to show the shaking of my hands so obviously. Gigi laughs scornfully.
"Oh really, Taylor? And you believe in what you're saying? Don't make me laugh, silly billy!"
My wife seems to be thinking about gigi's behavior. In return, I start to sweat and have to hold on to my own hands with excitement.
"What are you trying to say? Why do you even call me a silly billy? Don't you think that is extremely rude? We just want to be friendly, and that is probably your way of saying thanks?" Taylor nags at her.
Overpowered by the fighting spirit of both women, my eyes wander back and forth. Now Gigi speaks again. If looks could kill. I had a feeling something was wrong. The situation is not over yet. Her eyes flashes aggressivily.
"You still don't get it, do you?"
Taylor doesn't understand what Gigi is getting at.
"What are you talking about?"
"Why don't you ask your beloved husband ? I think he will be able to give you, or rather us, the right answer," she hisses.
Now she's brought me into this. My head is spinning. I am ready to faint. I take a swig from the drink. Unfortunately, that won't save me from this interrogation. I am standing right in the middle of it, without any possibility of escape. Two pairs of eyes are on me and expect an answer.
Under no circumstances may I reveal anything. The right moment has not come yet. First the vernissage must be finished. An outing in combination with adultery could have disastrous consequences for Zayn. You never know how his patrons will react.
"What do I have to do with it ?" I hear myself asking.
But it is equally true that attack is the best form of defence, I think. Taylor agrees with me by nodding his head.
"Don't be offended Gigi, but that's the height of bad taste. Why are you drawing Harry into your marital crisis?
The blonde beauty jumps up and hisses: "Really? Do you have the impression that I'm made up things that cast a bad light on Harry? Let's ask him! Maybe he has something to say about it after all!
My heart's beating fast, my pulse speeds up and I feel my adrenaline raise. I' m hot and cold at the same time. My life comes to a terrible end.
Taylor was fuming with indignation. "Now say something ! Harry come on, tell me you're not going to take that?", she asks me. "After all, that is outrageous!"
The clash of the Titans begins. The women are about to go at each other's throats and I, the whiner, am the centre of the action.
"Outrageous? Have you given any thought to why your husband can't finish his novel? Did you see the painting Zayn painted of him? My God Taylor, you really don't have a clue!"
Now Taylor contribute to the discussion."What does the crime novel have to do with your marriage? Sorry, I can't see a connection between them. And what painting are you actually talking about?
Gigi points with her index finger at me. "Ask him! Ask your husband!"
"Hazza", Taylor whispers into my ear. "She's completely freaking out. What should we do?"
My time has come. I can't stand this anymore. Fear grip my throat by the thought, of how they deal with each other and what else could come to light.
"Are you out of your mind or something?" I burst out. "What's all the fussing about in here?" I ask and also do this in my defence. In the same breath, I'm also aware that it's the only way to save the boiling over situation.
"We understand that you are frustrated. We understand your feelings. You are sad that there is a certain tension between you and Zayn. But what do we have to do with it?"
Again Gigi comes dangerously close to me. She runs towards me and I back away.
" Well, Mr. Styles doesn't see the connection? That is very interesting. Then I'll explain it to both of you! Listen carefully," she yells.
Taylor has been watching the scene very closely. Her eyes and mouth are wide open. She seems stunned.
"Zayn and you," she's tapping me against the chest again. "You seem to have a very special relationship. Don't you? A very intense friendship one even," she snaps.
I am outraged and disarmed. "What is all this talk about?
"Well, you spend a lot of time together... in our house, here, in the pub, in the garden. There's no time to write a book. I've put up with this long enough. And recently - quite by chance - I came upon it and I'm not the only one who thinks so."
Clouds of mistrust and of lies become denser in our living room.
"Whom are you speaking of?" Taylor screams and comes running towards me.
"Oh, I'm talking about your family friend - Louis," Gigi adds.
I'm trapped in a witch's cauldron. We are blown. Am I able to stop it somehow? If only Zayn were here. I absolutely must reach him and warn him. Taylor stares at me, the blue eyes begging that Gigi just made it up, that it came from her wild imagination. She expects me to disprove that statement.
Give them an explanation. Stay calm and think, I admonish myself.
"Well," I'll start and speak in a soft voice. "I think I know what you're talking about, Gigi."
"Oh really?", my wife throws in and is even more perplexed.
I nod.
"Calm down honey, I'll explain it immediately. So if you'd please let me speak, I could broaden your horizons on this subject."
As I say this sentence, I have the most brilliant idea of my life that could save me and Zayn.
"The painting you're talking about, dear Gigi - the one with the green eyes - has become beautiful. You're right, by the way. Zayn painted my eyes."
"I knew it," his wife whines and hopes for a favourable look from Taylor.
"However...it was a commissioned painting of mine. I asked him for it."
The women are surprised. They probably didn't expect it.
"Now to your accusation, Zayn and I would spend too much time together. That's also true. However, there's a simple reason for that. And this is where I bring Louis into it, like you did. Because what you don't know, and what he probably didn't tell you, is..." I deliberately don't talk any further to keep the tension.
"Well...the reason is...Louis blackmails Zayn. Your husband confided in me weeks ago and that's why we met more often."
There was absolute silence in the living room. Both women look at me with great expectation.
"Wait a minute. Zayn is being blackmailed by Louis? With what?" asks Taylor, who was first able to speak.
I nod and feel really mean. Actually, that's not a lie. Louis is actually put pressure on him. But that doesn't diminish the fact that I have a secret affair with her husband.
"Lou is crazy about Zayn," I say dryly. "That's why he tried to pin the blame on me, so you wouldn't get suspicious."
Gigi slowly sits down on a chair. That's probably all too much for her and her nerves. With both hands she clings to the armrest and sits there in silence with an empty gaze.
"Believe it or not. Zayn is disgusted by Lou, so we talked to each other so often. He simply wanted my advice," I add.
"That's outrageous! Lou is gay,?" my wife explains, while Gigi is still sitting there motionless. "Well, now I need a vodka."
She runs to the bar and pours a vodka.
"Have you ever seen Louis with a woman, Taylor?" I ask her. We both shake our heads.
I breathe a sigh of relief. It worked. But I'm dreading the thought of getting caught. But do I have another choice at the moment? My revenge for Tomlinson is almost perfect. He doesn't have any proof that it's not like that. Sure, he won't admit his affection for Zayn to anyone, but no one will believe him if he denies it. For the future, however, I have to find a new publisher. This will be our end.
All's well that ends well ???
I feel even worse than before. Everything has become much worse. This terrible lie is gnawing at me. I finally want to put the truth on the table - which will be painful - but makes an end to plotting. Our once so happy marriage, our dream of a peaceful life in the country, passed faster than we thought. The bright shimmering soap bubble bursts and one of us ends up with the bitter end.
My painter and I give up everything to live together. But we agree. The pain, every lie, every tear will be worth it.