48. Dinner With Perrie

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The only sound that was heard was forks against glass plates as we three gathered around the table to eat the dinner Zayn had prepared.

"This is really good." I tried to make conversation.

"It really is." Perrie says with a nod of agreement. We smiled at each other for a moment.

"Thank you." Zayn says with a triumphant smile. It's Alfredo and chicken, brother. It isn't too hard to make. Especially when I seasoned he chicken when we got back from the family.

"Perrie," I say after a swallow. I wiped the corners of my mouth with a napkin and cleared my throat. "I heard you can sing."

"I heard the same about you." She giggles quietly. Her eyes flicked over to Zayn before finding mine again. "How are you doing? You know, being here and all?"

"Uh, I guess I'm as good as could be expected. I mean, Zayn's fantastic and so are my sisters. Yaser as well." I answer, forking more pasta and chicken into my mouth.

"And your mum?"

I stopped chewing for a bit, locking my gaze with hers before sitting up straight and chewing again. "She's uhm- That's more difficult. I can't like her."

"Why not?" She asks quickly, her eyes instantly seeping embarrassment at her question. "I'm sorry. You don't have to answer that." Her cheeks were flushed with pink, her eyes turning down toward her plate.

"No, Perrie." I begin to say. "It's totally fine. The reason I can't like her is because, well, she isn't my mom. Yes, I was carried in her womb, but she didn't raise me and I feel as if I shouldn't give her the satisfaction to make up for lost time because if she truly loved me, I wouldn't have grew up with my other parents."

"Marley, we've told you that she's loved you from the day you were born." Zayn says, his eyes sorrowful. "How can we make you believe us?"

"I don't see how you can let someone you love- you're own child- be given away by your own hand just so you can love a man who had already left you once." I say, not meeting his eyes.

"I don't know what to say to that." He sighs.

"You can't tell me that I can't be mad at her for letting me go." I say, my eyes watching my plate that was only half eaten. "I needed a mom, and she wasn't there for me."

"But if you could just let go of what happened-" Zayn began, but I cut him off by standing to my feet, the chair grinding against the tile floor.

"No, I won't do that for her benefit, Zayn. I don't want to hear how I need to 'let it go for the better'. I hate the fact that I'm not my parents child, I hate the fact that my real mother didn't want me because of her own disloyalty, and I hate that I don't know you, or Safaa, or Waliyha, or Doniya the way I want to- the way I'm supposed to." Tears were streaming down my face now, catching the mascara and creating faint black lines that rivered down my cheeks and dripped from my chin. I turned away from Perrie and Zayn who were now both silent and watching me. "I'm sorry." I whisper to them before rushing toward the stairs and climbing them two at a time.

I shut my room door behind me, the lights off with the only illumination coming from outside of my window. The sun was just barely set, an orange glow coming in through the glass and casted over my floor.

I climb into bed and curling the pillow up to my face, regretting it instantly when my mascara bleeds on the case but I finished caring after a moment, pulling it tighter to my head. I screamed into it, feeling so many raw emotions rip through me.

I was fine with Zayn's pleading of my acceptance of Patricia before, but for some reason, today was the day that I didn't want to hear it anymore. I embarrassed myself and him in front of his girlfriend. This has got to be one of the worst first impressions I've ever done.

I take in a deep breath and release the pillow from my grip, rolling over to turn on my back and stare up at the ceiling. My arms and legs were spread out on the mattress, my eyes barely blinking while my breathing slowed.

Three soft taps on the door had me sitting up, staring at the white wooden barrier between me and who ever was on the other side.

"Come in." I decided to say, pulling my legs into a criss-cross position with my hands resting in my lap.

"Hey," I hear. It was unexpected to me as Perrie entered my room, closing the door behind her. "I came to say that I was sorry."

I reached over the edge of the bed and turned the lamp on, the shade had a light purple screen cloth hanging over the top of it which casted a beautiful color on the ceiling directly above it.

"You don't have to apologize." I say with a shake of my head, motioning my hand toward my bed for her to have a seat. "I was the one who blew up."

"But I was the one who asked." She says, tucking her wavy blonde hair behind her ear. Her eyes were vibrant with the lamp shining against them. "I shouldn't have."

"It's okay." I tell her.

I was still kind of shocked at how harsh and foreign her accent was compared to Zayn's or even Niall's. For me, I find myself really having to concentrate on what she's saying. Some words just don't click for me.

"I understand that I don't know how to keep my curiosity to a minimum sometimes," She says. "My mouth moves without my brain thinking twice about what it is that I want to say. And I'm sorry for being the cause of what happened."

Perrie scooted herself closer, placing a hand over mine that rested in my lap. "I don't think I could ever blame you for not liking Patricia. Don't get me wrong; I think she's an amazing person. But your reasons for your feelings shouldn't be brushed aside if you don't think it should be. I would be mad as well and I can only imagine how I would feel in your situation."

"Thanks, Perrie." I sigh. She lifted her hand toward my face and swiped her thumbs under both of my eyes. I looked up because her thumbs repeated the action and I thought of my makeup being a total mess.

"No need to thank me." She says with a smile just before she's finished.

It's weird, but I love how comfortable she seems around me, enough to help with my fucked up makeup without even asking to touch me.

"Is Zayn okay?" I ask her.

She answered with a soft shrug, standing to her feet. I followed in suit and we began toward the door.

When we made it down the stairs and into the kitchen, Zayn was silent but moving around and cleaning the kitchen, washing dishes. He had already put the food away, the table clean of our plates with our chairs neatly pushed in around it.

"Zayn?" I call for him, walking around Perrie to completely see my brother.

He shut off the water and sighed, hanging his head over the sink as he gripped the edges. He turned around slowly, his mouth parted and eyes red. One small tear seen falling down his clean shaven face.

"Marley," He says, his voice strained. "I'm sorry. Just please, don't hate me for what I said-"

I shut him up completely by rushing toward him, falling into him with as big of a hug as I could manage. My cheek was tightly pressed to his chest as he squeezed me closer.

"I wouldn't ever hate you, Zayn." I say. "You're my big brother."

I hear him sigh in relief before dropping his arms, his hands rubbing against my shoulders as I pulled away.

"Are you still in the mood for going out tonight?" He asks, taking in a deep breath through his nose to unstuff it.

"If not," Perrie says, reminding us of her presence. "We could always have a night in. I'd still like to hang out, if that's okay."

"Of course it's okay." Zayn and I say together.

"But I still wanna check out your dads night club." I say with a soft smile.

"Of course," Perrie clasps her hands together in excitement. "And your outfit is amazing, by the way. I love it."

"Thanks." I say with a genuinely big smile. Zayn quietly cleared his throat beside me. "Oh, Zayn helped me pick it out."

Zayn Malik's Long Lost Sister (Unedited)Where stories live. Discover now