Chapter 45 - Happy Birthday

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I stood at the kitchen sink, washing the dirty dishes by hand. I think the reason I preferred handwashing to using a dishwasher was because it calmed me. It was almost like it was symbolic of me washing away my own dirt, instead of someone or something else doing it for me.

I hummed quietly to myself, which was something I found myself doing whenever I was in a good mood, and at this moment I was content. Having Zayn around gave me a taste of what a real family could be, and not just the family that my parents had made; my own family.

Any family with Zayn would be a work in progress. We would be constantly changing, and working to adapt to those changes, for the rest of our lives - but I was okay with that. Sure, we had our differences, and we always would, but a family with Zayn was the only family I'd ever want to have.

As I ran the last dish under the scalding hot water, I felt a presence move up behind me. I didn't even need to look to know who it was. The static that I felt tickling the back of my neck was the only indication I needed.

"Have I ever told you that you have a beautiful singing voice?" his voice whispered softly into my ear.

That question brought back to me a memory of London. It was the day after Liam had found me nearly frozen to death in the park, and Zayn came to check up on me. He had somehow gotten into the house without me knowing, and snuck up on me while I was doing the dishes and belting out a Justin Timberlake song.

Back then he had commented on my singing voice, and ever since, I'd been far more confident when it came to singing. I'd never consider doing it professionally like he did, but I wasn't afraid of singing in the shower anymore, and I didn't even care if my neighbors heard me.

"I believe you did, once." I replied, keeping my face forward and my focus on the dishes.

"Well then I'll tell you again. Ada, your voice is beautiful." he sung, his voice vibrating against my ear, sending a wave of pleasure through my body.

Instinctively, I backed away, not wanting to provoke anything. 

I thought that he would have been offended by my sudden withdrawal, but the look he gave me was one of understanding. I think we both had the same reservations about each other, and we would both keep our distance.

Unfazed, Zayn placed his hands behind him onto the counter and hauled himself up, his rear hanging off the edge. He kicked his feet back and forth and smiled down at me while I dried the dishes and put them away.

"So..." he began.

"You sounded kind of angry on the phone this morning. Any particular reason why?"

And just like that, my mood went sour. I fought the urge to contort my face at the returning image of him and Paola tangled in his bed sheets. 

I could feel my blood literally boiling inside my veins as my grip on the dish I was holding tightened, nearly to the point of shattering it.

He must be teasing me to amuse his sick sense of humor, although, he couldn't possibly know how I felt. I never said anything, never gave any indication that I was uncomfortable with his relationship. In fact, I'd told him on several occasions that I was glad he had found someone.

"What are you talking about?" I kept my voice leveled and calm, even though a storm was raging inside of me.

"What did you say this morning? Oh yeah, it was something like "Zayn Malik , you get your ass over here right now.'" he mimicked my voice, sticking his tongue out afterward.

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