Never meant to be

Chapter 4

I looked down so intently while holding my breath, could that be Cindy, was she finally back? I thought to myself feeling some kind of happiness. Maybe, just maybe, my life is saved. The person who came out however was blonde and wearing clothes that even my sister would shy away from. Zayn came out and walked over to her, wrapping his arms around her waist and kissing her neck. There was a slight clumsiness to his walk, a sign of him being drunk. I gulped as the two continue to have an intense make out sessing in the foyer. I waited for the jealousy to kick in but it didn't, I felt nothing. He could do whatever he wanted. I tore my eyes away from the two and head into the bathroom to take a shower.

Two hours later as I was randomly changing the TV channels, I heard the sound of something shattering from outside. The help wouldn't come till it's nine so there was only one person, rather two that are here right now and I start panicking.

The sounds continue to come, loud sounds of things being thrown on the ground, of objects being violently broken and that's when I thought it was enough, with a determined look on my face I left the safety of my room, only to find the living room in utter mess.

Everything had been turned inside out and everything which could potentially be destroyed has been left in broken pieces. Vases were shattered, lamps broken, paintings scattered around the floor and cushions ripped open. Fear gripped me and in the middle of it all stood Zayn, looking dangerous and absolutely murderous and when his eyes found me, his rage seemingly increased.

To be completely honest, I was so terrified. He looked so angry, so furious that it instantly sent a chill down my spine. I began to walk away from him, retreating carefully so as to not attract attention but I wasn't careful enough. Zayn caught up with me before I could get to my room, grabbing my arm and pushing me against the wall. I felt sick as i smell the alcohol in his breath, his grey eye boring into mine. I cowered against his touch, his grip on my arm never losing its firmness. .

“Zayn,” I whispered hoping he'd catch the plead in my voice.

“Shut up! shut the hell up” he all but yelled at me and i instinctively closed my eyes, terrified of what was going to happen now. Would he hit me? Does he hate me so much?

“You ruined everything.” he growled, running his free hand through his hair.

I looked at him questioningly, tears welling up in my eye as I fought to hold it down. I'd been dreading this moment, waiting for him to break and blame me for ruining his life. I wanted to tell him that this was as hard for me as it was for him but i doubt if he cares about that. The alcohol in his system had taken over his reasoning and there was nothing I could do at this moment for him to see he was hurting me.

“I couldn't be with the girl I brought home! I couldn't touch her without the guilt eating me out. You did this to me.”

He said and left me speechless.

He pushed himself off of me and struggled to walk straight; he was about to fall when I quickly walked over to hold him steady, his weight crushing me. He muttered some incoherent words, things I knew were directed to hurt me. I tried my best to support him while struggling to walk him to him his room, which was closet to where we were. I managed to get him on the bed, laying him down more roughly than I had intended, I took off his shoes and placed a blanket on him.

I stared at the sleeping form of my husband and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't bring myself to be angry at him. He wasn't at fault; he doesn't deserve what he'd been subjected to. He hated me and I knew that i was far from loving him. But there was something I needed to do, something that might heal his heart from all of these pain.

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Later on a Wednesday night, Zayn had walked into my room like nothing had happened. Has he forgotten how he'd pinned me to the wall and how scared I was? I guess he had since he's made no attempt to apologize and I left him alone, not wanting any confrontation. I rarely left the house and staying indoors so much was messing with my head. Everything seemed muddled and confusing and I began to worry for my own sanity. My parents had made no attempt to contact me and I don't think they'd come to see me anytime soon. They were ashamed of what they'd made me do and to be honest, I don't want to see them either. Every reminder of what my life used to be was too painful and I'd rather do without it.

An envelope was thrown roughy on my bed where I sat. I look at Zayn in his drunken glory and wrinkled my nose from the stench coming from him. I carefully picked up the brown envelope and opened it to find a ticket to Florida, with the flight leaving the next day. I looked at him, clearly confused because I hadn't had the faintest idea that we were taking a trip.

“Why are we traveling?” I asked him and my own voice sounded so weird to me, not having used it much over the past few days.

“We need to get away from here for a while. Dad thinks it'd be a good idea to visit the family's vacation home since not many people knew about it,” he replied in a stern tone and I nodded my head. It was only understandable that our families would want us to disappear for a while before people starts asking questions. They'd already fed them excuses as to why we didn't attend dinner and why we'd skip out on our own wedding reception.

Florida would provide an opportunity for the hype over the high profile wedding to died down and then we could return.

Zayn was already on his way out when he suddenly stopped, bending down to pick something up from under my bed. He stared at me questioningly while I held my hands together nervously looking down.