CHAPTER 222: CHAPTER 222: THE MOMENT BEFORE EVERYTHING CHANGED

~Evric’s POV~

"Good," I smiled, easing us up from the floor. "But we’re not starting our day on the carpet."

We moved to the bed. The tension from the night before was completely gone, replaced by a delicious, lazy intimacy. Zayn immediately settled in, his face lighting up.

We were in that soft, silly phase of the morning. Zayn was being particularly clingy, his playful shyness charming me entirely. I pulled out my phone, suddenly wanting to capture the moment.

"Call me, Daddy," I whispered, holding the phone up.

I took a quick picture of us snuggled together, followed by a short video of Zayn trying to hide his face in my chest.

"Be careful not to post any of those pictures," Zayn said.

"Never," I promised. I kissed his cheek, then spent the next few minutes taking different cute pictures, one of him squinting shyly into the pillow, another of his hand linked with mine.

I finally got up and walked over to the closet. Instead of reaching for a casual t-shirt for him, I pulled out a tailored deep-navy Saint Laurent collared shirt and some sharp, dark denim.

Zayn raised an eyebrow. "Seriously? We’re just going to drive around, aren’t we?"

"Yes," I confirmed, tossing the outfit onto the bed. "But I want you to look amazing for me. I want to take a picture of you out in the sunlight."

Zayn’s face broke into a wide smile.

We made our way into the walk-in, the energy between us playful and charged. We stripped off our nightwear to find the right combination of clothes. Before putting on the chosen outfits, we couldn’t resist. We took a few quick mirror selfies in the bathroom and the closet, both of us shirtless, showcasing the definition in our muscles. In a short video, Zayn played the role of the excessively clingy boyfriend, refusing to let go of my arm. It was pure, cute couple moment chaos.

Finally, we showered, dressed, and headed out. I chose one of my road cars—a sleek, powerful machine painted in a deep metallic blue. It was costly cars, perfect for eating up highway miles, looking effortlessly cool, and making a powerful, understated statement as we cruised through the city.

We pulled out of the driveway, the engine of the sleek, expensive car rumbling low and satisfied beneath us. I put on a playlist—a mix of upbeat rock and smooth R&B—and we started driving, just letting the road take us.

The windows were down, letting the crisp air rush through the cabin. We laughed It was just us, bathed in the music and the speed.

Our aimless drive eventually led us to the coast. We found a secluded spot overlooking the water, not a busy beach, but a quiet stretch where the river met the ocean, the calm water reflecting the vast sky.

We stopped the car, drawn by the incredible lighting. The sunset was just beginning to turn the sky into a masterpiece, spilling hues of gold, rose, and brilliant orange over the horizon.

We spent the next twenty minutes focused entirely on each other, using our phones to capture the beauty. We took pictures inside the car, Zayn laughing as he tried on my sunglasses. Then, we moved outside, standing right beside the water as the light hit its peak.

I took stunning portraits of Zayn, his hair catching the golden rim light, his smile easy and genuine. He took pictures of me. And then we set the timer, propping a phone up to embrace as the camera flashed. We were laughing, completely immersed in the moment—a beautiful, romantic silhouette framed against the fiery sky.

In those perfect, quiet moments, with the sunset as our backdrop and only the two of us breathing the salty air, all the fear and the media noise vanished. We had proof, captured in perfect light, that our world was still whole.

We moved back inside the car, the lingering heat from the day trapped in the leather seats. We just sat there for a long time, watching the final sliver of the sun disappear below the horizon. The air was cool and crisp now, rushing over us as a soft, rhythmic breeze. It was quiet, restorative, and safe.

"Give me a minute, babe," I murmured, my voice sounding tight even to my own ears.

After I was done, Zayn was scrolling through his phone, looking at the perfect, sunlit pictures we’d taken. I reached over, gently collected his phone, and, with a quick, deliberate motion, climbed onto his lap, straddling the center console.

He laughed at the sudden move, instinctively wrapping his arms around my waist. "Seriously?"

But the laughter instantly froze on his face when he looked up and saw my expression. The deep breath I took was ragged, and my eyes were wide with a fear he hadn’t seen since the initial public chaos.

"Evric, what’s wrong?" he asked, his hands tensing on my hips.

I sighed, a sound of pure exhaustion. I reached up and cupped his face, my thumb brushing the sharp line of his cheekbone.

"Babe," I started, the single word thick with emotion.

"Yes?"

"Listen to me. When I say ’I love you,’ I know it sounds like I say it too much. When I say ’I can’t live without you,’ I know it sounds like I’m exaggerating. When I say ’I want you by my side forever,’ I know that sounds like a command."

I gripped his face gently. "Zayn, I don’t know how to express love better than that. It’s all I know. But can I beg you? Can I beg you not to get tired of me? Can I beg you not to run out of patience and respect for me?"

Zayn’s confusion was laced with growing alarm. "What is it, Evric? What is going on?"

"Listen to me, babe," I insisted, the words spilling out. "The only words I know to express myself are I love you. I really do, Zayn."

"Then just speak to me," he urged, pleading.

"Zayn," I called his name, my voice breaking on the inhale.

"Yes, love?"

I leaned my forehead against his. "Can I beg you not to get tired of hearing me say ’I love you’? It’s the only thing I know how to say."

Then the dam broke. I pulled back, tears flooding my eyes, the cold anxiety finally winning. "For any reason, babe, can you not ever move out of my house? Please. Stop thinking of moving out."

I rushed on, driven by the memory of the past night. "Last night, after our argument, our horrible misunderstanding, after I was sure you were asleep... I couldn’t stop thinking. We have little fights, we’re human. But you never talk about leaving. Why the sudden need to pack out?"

I paused, unable to look away from his face. "When I couldn’t sleep, I saw your phone buzz. I checked it, Zayn. I saw the anonymous message sent to you... the one that said you should pack out to protect my reputation and career."

My voice shook with anger and pain. "I do not need you to protect me, babe. I know the image can’t be protected forever. I was hurt. I wonder why you kept insisting you wanted to pack out... so I checked your phone. I am sorry for what I did."

A small, sad smile touched Zayn’s lips. "I’m sorry for keeping it from you," he whispered.

"I’m really, very sorry, Zayn," I repeated, but this time the apology felt different, it was heavy, like a confession.

Zayn recognized the shift. His eyes narrowed with sudden apprehension. "What have you done, Evric?"

I took a deep, shuddering breath, my own fate now sealed. "I was scared you would listen to them and leave me. I was terrified I wouldn’t be enough to keep you here." My voice was shaking. "So, every picture of us... every cute video we took today... and every other picture we’ve ever taken... I posted all of them on social media."

"WHAT?!" Zayn screamed, his hands flying up and pushing me back in pure, disbelieving shock.