Her words lingered between us, heavier and colder than the night outside, gnawing at the edges of my thoughts.
I stood up slowly, my limbs feeling weighed down by worry, and made my way upstairs. Even though Zayn had assured me not to worry, I couldn't shake the unease. It wasn't about trust, he had given me every reason to trust him, but about the fear that lingered in his heart.
Zayn still saw being with a man as something shameful, a secret burden that had haunted him long before me. I had witnessed the quiet shame in his eyes before, and the thought of it repeating terrified me. I refused to let that happen again.
The hot water of the shower washed over me, but it did little to wash away the thoughts crowding my mind. Every drop that slid down my skin felt like a whisper of worry, reminding me of the vulnerability I feared for him and for us.
