Until you came (Zarry) /English Version

47. Play with fire

Zayn

The day is ending and everything went as expected - very well. My gallery owner was more than satisfied, because all paintings found a new owner. Three portraits of them are not for sale - the self-portrait and those of Louis and Harry.

For two hours now I' ve been in ceaseless talks with potential clients and my thoughts are actually quite elsewhere. Harry didn't show up. As successful as my work was, as harmonious as the event was, even the presence of my wife doesn't make up for his absence.

Harry didn't come and it hits me in the guts and leaves a wound that isn't healing anymore. My self-respect is too great, and so is my pride. Harry, who wasn't at my side on such an important day, doesn't deserve my love and respect. To have respect for others is important and Harry is trampling on it. Even when I called him, he didn't respond. My boyfriend hasn' t contacted me yet.

I guess that's my life. There is more to love than just physical excitement. I want to shout from the roof tops how I've been hurt. He dumped me for the second time.

Gigi left a few minutes ago. When we said goodbye we agreed that I would spend another night in the hotel. I still need time to sort out my thoughts and my life.  And I did that long ago. I won't go back to my wife. It wouldn't work anymore. Our marriage has failed. She failed because of me. I am the one to blame. As painful as it may sound, there is no going back.

You can't force love - at least not in our case. It's finally over and I'm going to spend my life in my own apartment, far away from country life, far away from him. In the next few days we have to talk about it and have to accept the consequences of this decision.

Like I said, you can't ask for love, it's not on request. It is either existing or not. I see it the same way with Harry. Even if I wanted nothing more than to spend my life with him, I can't insist on it. Harry is not ready. He proved it to me today, that he no longer believes in our love. 

He probably got cold feet. I should have known and I' m angry about my hopes and my naivety. How foolish of me. At the end of the day everyone is alone - I' m no exception.

Outside, the city is already in the dark. The art gallery is empty and quiet. I walk home and enjoy the cold evening air and the few noises. On the way I decide to stop at one of the many pubs in my neighborhood. I want to drown my loneliness and forget this day, which I spent without Haz. He still didn't give me a call or an apology. Even some lie I would have accepted just to feel that he is thinking of me. Nothing. Our time together is running out for me.

Surrounded by many students I end up in a pub and sit on a chair right next to the bar. My gaze roams over the interior, which is monotonous but well arranged. Pubs, which are mainly visited by students, I imagined to be somehow more cosily. What the hell. Modern age has already arrived here. Behind the bar are illuminated glass shelves and the glasses and bottles shine in various shades of blue. I wish it was green. Blue light looks so cold and I am shivering immediately.

My thoughts are interrupted when a tall young man with an impressive physique and brown hair comes over to me, casually puts his arms over the bar and is waiting for my order. "I would like a glass of red wine, please," I say bored and continue to watch the other guests.

Once again lost in my thoughts, I hear:

"Hi! I've never seen you here before. You don't look like a student. What brings you here?"

My face turns to the voice and looks into two dark brown eyes and notices a broad smile on his face. I look at him for a few seconds. That guy is pretty, really pretty. But I immediately reject my thoughts, because he is not the reason why I am here. I want to be alone, drown my frustration in alcohol and not have a conversation - no matter how attractive barman is.