[BL] CRAVING HIM: Addicted to His Voice-Chapter 380: The Reunion No One Was Ready For

~Zayn’s POV~

We sat down, and I asked what he wanted so I could serve him, but he glanced at his watch instead. "I should probably head out and find a hotel first," he said. "Once I’m settled, I’ll come by this evening so we can really talk."

I shook my head without hesitation. "Dad, no. Why would you stay in a hotel when I have a home?" I said softly. "I want you with me. If you stay somewhere else, we’ll barely have any time together. Please stay at my place, I want us to talk... I want you close."

He hesitated, his expression tightening with concern, my mother clearly on his mind.

"Zayn," he murmured, "I don’t want to make things uncomfortable. Are you certain?"

"I’m sure," I said firmly. "Please."

He finally relented with a small smile. "Alright. If you’re sure, I’ll stay. But I’ll have my assistant and driver lodge at a hotel nearby so I don’t crowd the place."

"That’s a deal," I agreed.

When the restaurant finally quieted down for the afternoon, we drove home together. My nerves were frayed. Even though my mother and I had talked about this, I couldn’t predict how she would feel once it became real. The uncertainty sat heavily in my chest.

We had just reached the front door when it opened before I could even touch the handle. My mother must have heard the car. She stood there already, smiling brightly, her expression warm and eager as she welcomed me home.

"Zayn, you’re back—"

The words died in her throat. Her eyes shifted from me to the man standing just a step behind my shoulder.

The silence that followed was deafening, as if the air had been sucked out of the room. Two decades of silence, anger, and distance vanished in an instant, leaving behind only the raw, trembling reality of two people who had once been everything to each other.

My mother’s hand stayed frozen on the doorframe, her fingers trembling slightly. She didn’t move, and neither did he. They just stood there, staring, as if they were seeing ghosts.

I watched her throat bob as she swallowed hard, her eyes glassing over with unshed tears. My father’s expression was just as fragile; the usually composed man seemed to falter for a brief moment, his gaze searching her face as though trying to memorize every line time had carved there during the decades they’d spent apart.

No one said "hello." No one moved to hug. It was just a heavy, emotional gravity pulling at both of them, a silent conversation happening in the space between them that I couldn’t part of. It was the most natural, painful thing I had ever witnessed.

Eventually, we moved inside. I settled my father in the living room and offered him a glass of water, which he took with a trembling hand. My mother went straight to the sofa in front of the TV, staring at the screen without actually seeing whatever was playing. The air was thick with an awkwardness so heavy it felt like it was choking the room; they wouldn’t even let their eyes meet.

I walked over to my mom, kneeling slightly beside her. "Mom," I whispered, "don’t forget what you promised me."

She sighed, her gaze still fixed on the TV. "I understand, Zayn."

"I’m not trying to force you into a long talk right now," I told her, my heart aching at the tension in her shoulders. "But at least try to look at him. Please, just for me." I squeezed her hand, my concern for her warring with my desire for peace.

After making sure my mother was okay, I showed my father to the guest room so he could settle in. Once I was finally alone, I retreated to my room and stepped into the shower, but even the hot water couldn’t wash away the tension coiled in my chest. As soon as I dried off, I called Evric, needing the comfort of his voice. I told him how heavy everything felt, but his response wasn’t what I had expected.

"Zayn, you need to give them time," Evric said, his voice firmer than usual. "You can’t rush something like this."

I exhaled slowly. "I just... I want them to be okay. At least for the wedding."

"I care about your mother’s feelings, Zayn," Evric countered. "The way you’re pushing for this... You aren’t giving her a chance to face reality on her own terms. You’re giving her no choice. It looks like you’re forcing her to accept him just for your own interests. Honestly? It sounds like selfishness."

I went silent, the word selfish stinging like a slap. I hadn’t seen it that way. I just wanted my parents to be happy, to stand in union on my big day just like Evric’s parents would. I didn’t want my family to look broken while everyone else’s looked whole.

"I know your intentions are good," Evric said, his voice firm and rising slightly. "But what your father did left deep wounds, your father doesn’t get absolution just because time has passed. Forgiveness only means something if it’s freely given, not pulled out of her."

He kept talking, his tone becoming more authoritative until I couldn’t take the weight of it anymore. My chest tightened, and the first sob broke through.

"I’m sorry," I choked out, tears streaming down my face. "I’m sorry I’m doing it all wrong again."

Before he could respond, I hung up. My phone started vibrating almost instantly as he called back, but I didn’t pick up. I wasn’t even angry with him, I knew he was right, but the pressure of trying to fix my fractured family was too much. I just wanted peace. I just wanted to be happy.

A notification chimed.

Evric: Babe, please pick up. I didn’t mean to be harsh with you, I just feel so sorry for your mom and how she’s hurting.

A second later, another followed.

Evric: Please, Zayn. Pick up and let’s figure this out together. Please, baby.

My blurred vision made it hard to type, but I forced my shaking fingers to respond.

Zayn: I just need a moment. Let’s talk tomorrow.

His reply was instantaneous, as if he were holding his phone, waiting for any sign of life from me.

Evric: Babe, you don’t need a moment. All you need is me.

I read the message, the blue checks appearing on his screen, but I couldn’t bring myself to reply. I was drained. I felt like I had spent all my emotional currency trying to buy a happy ending that wasn’t ready to be written.

I crawled to the center of the bed and curled into a tight ball, my knees pulled to my chest. I couldn’t face my father’s guilt or my mother’s silent suffering out there in the living room. I felt paralyzed.

Nearly an hour passed in the suffocating quiet of my room. Then, the soft click of the door handle broke the silence. I didn’t move at first, thinking it was my mother coming to check on me, but the heavy, purposeful scent of cedar and expensive cologne filled the air. I didn’t need to turn around to know who had come in.

When I finally looked up, Evric was standing there, silhouetted against the dim light. He didn’t wait for an invitation; he stepped inside and closed the door behind him, his eyes finding mine...