48 ??Uncertain feelings?? (1/2)

ZAYN

There are times in your life when you just want to close your eyes and hope that when you open them, you would realise everything was just a nightmare. But when I opened my eyes I still saw her in front of me.

Or them, I should say I guess.

After all, the baby inside her was a living, breathing soul.

I choked on the remnants of the air inside my lungs. The world outside seemed to fade away, leaving only grime and obscurity in its wake.

I never gave much thought to children, and was crazy enough to always be sure that Leia would be the one to carry mine.

Mine.

Nobody else's.

Of course, the reality was much more different and complex.

From Leia's expression, I could tell she awaited my wrath. Yet . . . I felt not even an ounce of anger.

How could I? It wasn't her fault that she got pregnant. It wasn't the baby's fault that a guy like Ammar would be its father.

It seemed like, for the first time ever, everything made sense. I suddenly found my purpose. I felt the clouds parting for me; felt the very ground beneath my anatomically-designed boots quiver.

The rush was so abrupt, I nearly lurched upfront. My vision started to clear and the blast of sounds quieted, leaving only a soft hum in my ears.

Leia stood so close to me that reaching out would not be a problem, and I'd be lying if I said it wasn't tempting. But I couldn't. Not after what had been revealed directly into my heart.

I was made for this, I had realised. All these years of struggling, of going out of my way and setting up my own business was so I could look after her. And her child.

God had everything carefully planned out. He loved her so much that He had to ensure someone looked over her and the baby after she left Ammar. And that someone was me.

Why was it me? I wasn't even deserving of anything.

”Say something, please,” Leia's voice was brittle, as if she was a centimeter away from breaking apart.

I couldn't, for the life of me, form a single word. My tongue felt way too thick and heavy in my mouth and I was having trouble just looking at her. I don't know . . .

Why why why

Did I want to reach out and touch her? Place a hand over her belly, like I was some crazed person. Yet, the feeling was so overpowering and I didn't have the strength to back away.

”Zayn? Please.” I read the desperation in her eyes. She needed me to say something.

God only knew how she'd spent the past few months. Was there anyone to support her? To take her to the hospital? Did her husband even care?