Taylor
" Have you heard anything from Zayn?"
Harry stands at the stove and is cooking our dinner. We finally have another evening together and want to spend it relaxed - at least that's what I'm planning.
"Mmmh, that smells so good," I murmur in his ear and kiss his earlobe.
Lost in thought, he stirs the sauce and neither responds to my question nor to the touch.
"Well, would you mind answering my question?"
"What did you say?"
"I asked if you had heard from our neighbour again."
Harry shrugs and lowers his head and concentrates again on cooking.
"No, I didn't. Why do you ask?
The slight blush on his cheeks doesn't escaped my notice and neither does his defensive.
"And then why do you blush and are so taciturn?" I ask with interest.
My husband now takes some parsley and chops it carefully to avoid an answer. He always does that when he feels cornered. Then he gets wrapped up in all kinds of activities, only not to have to answer.
"Nonsense, it's just warm in here from cooking."
"Oh really? So it's too warm in here", I reply and tear open the terrace door to let in fresh air. If Harry is too warm... "Have you heard anything from Zayn or not?
Slowly I lose my patience.
"I already said no. Does Gigi want to know or do you want to know?" he answers annoyed.
Now he puts the knife away and looks seriously at my face. The curls are sticking to his forehead and his beautiful eyes are flashing.
"What are you getting at, Taylor?"
Shit, now he's figured it out. Gigi actually called me yesterday and wanted to know if there was any news from her husband. We are still in contact and even met for a cappuccino during a lunch break. Unfortunately I couldn't help her and promised to investigate. I believe that Harry is still in contact with him.
"Well..." I answer meekly.
"So I'm right. Gigi wants to make enquiries about him," he replies. "Why doesn't she just call Zayn? Does she needs you for that when it comes to her husband? I don't like that, Taylor. Are we in kindergarten or are we adults?" He grumbles and rolls his eyes. "Just like a woman."
"Don't exaggerate, Haz. You know how delicate the subject is. She is longing for him because she still loves Zayn. Don't forget, he just broke up with her - from one day to the next - and said, that he doesn't love her anymore. Imagine her terrible situation", I defend her.
My husband turns back to the saucepan and puts the herbs in it. He just ignores me. Is he keeping something secret?
"Harry, did you know that Zayn wants to leave Gigi?"
Suddenly he turns to me, his eyes flicker nervously and he holds on to the kitchen Island, not to lose his temper. His breath is heavy and his chest is rising and falling faster. Then he stutters:
"Zayn didn't tell me anything, Taylor. We were just talking about men's stuff."
"Men's stuff? And what is it about?"
Now he's telling me this nonsense. A likely story! If the explanations run out, or the truth is to be kept secret, then the guys talk about "men's stuff". How stupid does he think I am?
"Well, we were talking about soccer, work, cars, and so on."
"You never talked about other women, did you?" I want to know because I don't believe him.
Men talk about women all the time, like we talk about men. So what is this fairy tale.
"I don't like your questioning, Taylor. I'm not a source of information! I'm not talking about Zayn so that Gigi can work something out," he snaps and makes an angry face. "Tell her to call him, if she wants to know anything about him."
"That is just like you, Harry."
Men do not feel sympathy for the abandoned wives as long as they aren't the abandoned ones.
"Are you saying you haven't been in touch since that day? You two used to be inseparable."
No, I'm not giving up. He must know something. I just don't believe that Zayn didn't tell him that he was going to break up with Gigi.
"For the last time ever, Taylor. No, we didn't see each other anymore. I beg you. Let's end this conversation now. It's starting to get on my nerves. Let's eat," he grumbles and is already setting the table.
"So I won't hear from you what's going on", I reply frustrated because I can't tell Gigi anything and Harry is keeping quiet about it.
"It's just like that." he nagged as he folded the napkins.
Actually, it's not just Gigi's problems I'm worried about. My own marriage also worries me. For weeks now things have been getting worse and worse for us. In everyday life we rarely see each other. In the evening we are usually so exhausted that we hardly have sex. Our days and weekends are just boring because our friends are gone and Harry and I don't go out. No more parties together, nothing.
"Jesus, Taylor! What are you really about? Huh?"
Now we sit across from each other at the dining table and we are picking at our food and nagging at each other. I never wanted to end up like that.
"Do you know what I'm talking about?" I shout and throw my fork on the table and it falls to the ground with a loud clatter.
" I would like to know that at last. This isn't about Gigi in the first place, or am I wrong?" he says angrily.
"It's about us, Harry!
The silence that now fills the living room is deadly. So I was right after all. Something is wrong. The harmony between us is only on the surface, below the surface is fading love and I think Zayn has something to do with it. Of course I have no proof, but my inner voice tells me.
"Okay, so this is about us. And what do the Maliks have to do with it?"
"You tell me, Harry!" I murmur a little anxiously now.
"Darling, I honestly don't know what you're talking about. Where is the connection? Taylor, I am here with you and nowhere else. We are together. We are happy together. Why do you have reservations?" he answers and pushes his plate far away from himself and leans firmly against the backrest.
"Happy? Are we really happy, Harry? Are you happy with me?" I ask the question, watching his facial expression. "I think we've kind of drifted apart, haven't we?" I whisper and feel pretty helpless.
His hug doesn't satisfy me. I still have a bad feeling. Harry's closeness also feels strange and false. This whispered I love you sounds like a lie and is said to clear up all my doubts. I don't believe a word or a gesture.
"Haz, I'm just afraid that everything will change for us, too. Do you see what I mean?"
My husband just nods silently, his green eyes are so dull and we continue the dinner in silence and sadness - we are eating with no appetite.
Harry
Taylor was close to drawing me out. I almost told her everything, that I love Zayn, that I wanted to break up with her, that I am thinking about him every minute and miss him terribly.
Thank God, I could restrain myself.
While I'm clearing the table, I think again about lunch at the restaurant. Why was Zayn there and who was the man who accompanied him? Zayn was so jealous - just like me. The champagne was just an excuse to make yourself noticed. But why this little game? He could have just come to our table and I would have introduced him to Ben. Then he would know that it was only a business lunch.
I want to be with him day and night. His belongings are brought out of the house, his studio is been empty and I miss him so much. I need to see him because I can't stand this distance between us any longer. I just want to see him briefly, touch him, hear his voice. But how? I'm going to have to make up a story...to avoid Taylor and visit my man. It doesn't work. Damn it.
Unnoticed, Taylor got closer and stands right behind me.
""Do you fancy going out? There's a new bar, I'd love to go there."
It's a matter of kindness, to calm things down.
"What do you think? Please, say yes," she begs sugary, while she's grabbing my butt. Her touch...I can't bear it.
A little change can't hurt. At least it'll distract me.
"Okay, I'm in. Let's go out tonight," I answer her and a smile spreads across her face.
"Really? That's great, then I'll get changed quickly."
The evening is peaceful as we drive into town and I' m really curious to see where my wife will take me. The closer we get to the pub, the more restless I get. We actually get to the part of town where Zayn lives and my heart beats twice as fast. Hopefully she won't notice anything. His apartment is very close by and I would like to get out, let Taylor drive alone and run to Zaynie. But that's out of the question and I probably wouldn't be welcome at all.
A short time later we get out in front of a fancy pub. Everything is bathed in blue light and looks cool and modern - all Taylor's taste, not mine. Inside we sit down at a table near the bar. After only a few seconds we are served.
"What can I get you all to drink?" a petite dark-haired woman welcomes us.
"We'll have a glass of red wine and a beer," I order.
She nods and disappears into the crowd.
As my gaze roams over the other guests, I see the guy who was recently at Zayn's home. What was his name?
"Liam", I mumble.
"Who?" asks Taylor, who must have heard my murmur and is rousing me from my thoughts with her question. She's got ears like a hare and I' m instantly annoyed by her manner.
"Huh?"
"Who is Liam?" she wants to know.
" No one, why?" Her curiosity is killing me. Taylor must always know everything. She doesn't miss a single thing. Why haven't I noticed that before?
She raises her eyebrows and doesn't seem to believe a word I'm saying. Meanwhile I sincerely hope that Liam will not have spotted me. So I try to be as inconspicuous as possible and look in a different direction. If he would come to our table and bring up the suggestion of the "threesome", my wife would kill me. Then my hanky-panky with Zayn is blown.
Later the door opens and new guests stream in. Liam smiles at one of them very nicely and holds him tightly in his strong arms. From a distance I watch this scene with great interest because it reminds me of Zayn and me. Two men who like each other, who may love each other. When the stranger takes off his jacket and puts it on the bar stool, I recognize him.
It's Zayn.
From now on, I can't follow the conversation with my wife. She only tells trivial stories. She talks about her job - as usual. Meanwhile Zayn and Liam are much more interesting for me. They're deep in conversation and seem to get along very well without physically touching each other. My painter laughs out loud and I'm desperate. He seems so relaxed, so carefree, as if nothing had happened, while I am suffering and have to sit here with my wife.
" Hey, isn't that Zayn over there?" she shouts and rouses me from my thoughts.
"What? Damn, now she's spotted him and I have to act surprised.
"Hey Zayn!" I heard her voice filling the entire pub. She waves exuberant both hands and almost knocks her glass over. Everybody turns to look at us, including Zayn.
My wife is still waving her arms around excitedly and I see his gaze making the blood freeze in your veins. This is Taylors chance to get some information, which she will tell Gigi about and the thought of it makes me sick. My Pakistani also briefly raises his hand - almost discreetly. He attempts to smile and quickly turns back to Liam.
"Did you see that, honey? I can hardly believe that! That's what I call a very warm welcome." she says outraged. "He didn't even look at us properly. Probably we are no longer good enough for him."
My wife is getting mad with rage. She probably didn't expect this negative attitude - to be honest I didn't expect it either. What is this all about? We were still together a short time ago, made love to each other and now he he is acting as if I were thin air?
"Who does Malik talk to all the time? I didn't know he had any other friends." She spoke with a suggestion of sarcasm in her voice. Taylor had probably expected a heartfelt embrace. Such behavior shakes my wife to the core.
I have to pull myself together so I don't get rude too.
"My goodness, Taylor, what are you expecting? He's the whipping boy because he broke up with his wife. You make him out to be a adulterer? Zayn may be unsure because he doesn't know how to deal with us. Are you going to blame him for that now? Besides, you're closer to Gigi than he is. So what do you expect from Zayn?" I say to her and continue drinking my beer.
"Don't get all worked up. It's a statement of fact, not an accusation. Why don't you go to Zayn and talk to him? After all, he's your friend."
"So that you can get your information for Gigi? Forget it, Taylor. Nice try, darling," I snap back.
How kind of her to point this out to me. He is my friend. But I don't want to go to him and push myself into his conversation with Liam. So I prefer to sit stubbornly. I constantly have to look over at the two of them. I am indeed jealous and have no idea how to repress it.
"Harry, if you keep looking at the bar, why don't you just go there and at least say hello to Zayn? You don't have to throw your arms around his neck," my wife comments on my staring. "I don't want Zayn to think we don't like him just because he and Gigi aren't a couple anymore."
I'd forgotten how original she is. I would love to put my arms around his neck. You can count on that, Taylor.
I have to void my bladder and I run to the toilet while my sweetheart orders the second glass of wine. What an evening... we should have stayed at home.
When I wash my hands, I look at myself in the mirror. How can I look him in the face now? Am I a cheater? Did I hurt Zayn? Of course I flirted with Winston, but it didn't really mean anything to me. Just why is he showing up there at that moment? I am angry at everyone and especially at myself.
When I enter the pub, my gaze immediately wanders back to the bar. Next to Zayn sits a beautiful woman who shamelessly pulls out all the stops to impress him. I am appalled and could strangle her right away. The painter also obviously flirts with her and he grinned from ear to ear. Pretty angry I get back to our table.
"Harry, I saw an old colleague. Do you mind if I ask her to join us for a moment," tells Taylor.
"Oh, is that really necessary?" I have to talk to two women then. No, thanks.
"Then I'll sit at her table for a moment. Would that be okay for you? You're not very talkative tonight anyway," she moans and hopes for my consent.
"No problem. I' m drinking my beer in peace."
Before she goes, she points her head towards the bar and purrs:
"Maybe he's got a date with his new girlfriend. Just look at him. He's such a womanizer."
And then she disappears into the crowd.
Finally. Silence. Peace.
Meanwhile, the young woman has put her arm around Zayn's neck. There is a lot of body contact. Liam gives him a questioning look. He is probably also annoyed by the behaviour of the two.
That's enough. I won't put up with it any longer, though. Taylor is out of reach and I seize the opportunity and go to them before things get even hotter between her and him. Honestly, I don't know what exactly I'm going to do.
Slowly I stroll towards the bar. Liam notices me first and smiles.
"Hey, Harry, nice to see you." he says to me and he's in a good mood.
"Hey, Liam, nice to see you, too," I answer and am glad he is still there.
My dreamboat looked up, surprised.
"Hey, Zayn, I almost didn't recognize you," I'm trying to draw him out.
"Really?" he says dryly.
"Oh, another good-looking guy," purrs the lady and holds her delicate hand towards me. "The evening is getting better and better, I'm surrounded by lots of great, strong men. Is this a dream?"
"And whom might you be?", I start the conversation with her.
"Call me what you want, cutie," she giggles stupidly and turns towards Zayn again.
Oh, my God. Oh, my God. What does Zayn want with her? You can see the stupidity in her eyes. Her good looks don't hide the fact that she is a pushy person.
I've had enough of this.
"How about you get your hands off him," I whisper in her ear so Zayn can't hear it.
The silly cow stares at me from her big eyes and snorts.
"And why should I do that?" she hisses back.
With a beaming smile on my face, I bend down to her again.
"Because he belongs to me, bitch," I answer her sugary.
"What? The words get stuck in her throat. She seems to be completely overwhelmed.
"So move your pretty ass out of here. Better you get on other men's nerves. Have I made myself clear?" I whisper and still have my smile on my face.
The lady gasps for air, looks around confused and leaves the bar immediately.
Zayn's gaze speaks volumes now.