Mutual Understanding

"Doesn't it feel like we might be moving too fast?" 

I venture, voicing the thoughts swirling in my mind. His reaction surprises me, his expression momentarily faltering before a flicker of hurt crosses his features. 

"Life is too short, Kattie," 

He responds softly, his voice tinged with emotion. 

"And I'm very sure about you." His sincerity washes over me, and I find myself drawn to the depth of his conviction. 

"I want my parents to meet you," 

He continues, his gaze unwavering. 

"Along with my... spoilt siblings, as I usually call them." 

A small smile tugs at the corners of his lips, a hint of fondness evident in his words. Despite my lingering doubts, I can't deny the earnestness in Zayn's plea, and I silently acknowledge the significance of this moment in our relationship. But it's too soon. This relationship is stll on infant stage , we definitely not supposed to be moving this fast.

Tension crackles in the air as I confront Zayn, frustration boiling over into anger. 

"Why are you rushing things like this?" 

I demand, my voice trembling with emotion. 

"Firstly, you forced my hand to see my kids, and I let you. Now, you're pushing me too far!" 

My words hang heavy between us, the weight of my accusations piercing the silence. Zayn's expression remains impassive, his silence deafening in response to my outburst. 

"Don't you see?" 

I continue, the fire in my eyes blazing with intensity. 

"I feel like you're taking advantage of me, of my willingness to trust you!" 

Each word is a dagger, slicing through the fragile bond we've built. But still, Zayn says nothing, his stoic demeanor only fueling my anger. 

"Say something!" 

I demand, my voice rising in frustration. But Zayn remains silent, his silence speaking volumes as the chasm between us widens with each passing moment. This, I realize with a sinking heart, is our very first fight, and it's tearing us apart at the seams.

I'm even more furious at the fact that he's not saying anything , he should say something before I lose it completely , wait , is that a… why is he kissing me when he's supposed to be speaking. Great. We just had our first kiss. Wait , wasn't I angry at him just a moment ago? 

He has magic perhaps! He is staring right at my eyes , I feel shy , darn it man! A grown woman feeling shy? Absurd if you ask me. 

"You are no longer a teenager , get a grip of yourself!" I reprimand myself inwardly. It's like he heard my thoughts as he flashes his signature smirk.

His voice is filled with sincerity as he speaks, his words weaving a tapestry of romance and devotion. 

"Kattie." 

He begins, his gaze softening with affection. 

"You mean more to me than words can express. I want you to meet my family because I want them to see the incredible woman I've fallen in love with." 

He reaches out to take my hand, his touch sending shivers down my spine. 

"I want them to know the happiness you bring into my life every day." 

He continues, his eyes never leaving mine. 

"And I want you to see where I come from, to understand the roots of the love I have for you." 

Each word is like a love letter, spoken from the depths of his heart, and I can't help but be moved by the depth of his affection.

As he pours out his heart, expressing the most romantic and heartfelt sentiments, I find myself torn between the warmth of his words and the weight of my own apprehensions. 

"Zayn," 

I interject gently, my voice softening with tenderness, 

"I appreciate everything you're saying, I really do. But I think we should wait at least half a year before I meet your family." 

His eyes widen in surprise, but I press on, needing him to understand my perspective. 

"I want us to get to know each other better first," 

I explain earnestly, 

"And to create some sort of bond between you and the twins as well." 

I pause, gathering my thoughts before continuing. 

"Madison, she's feeling overwhelmed by all of this." 

I admit, my voice tinged with concern. 

"I want to make sure we're all ready for this step before we take it." 

As I meet Zayn's gaze, I can see the flicker of understanding in his eyes, and for a moment, the tension between us eases, replaced by a shared sense of empathy and mutual respect, Heavens , I love this man , the love I witness in his eyes is everything I wanted and more.

I wasn't ready for the question he pops next. My children's father! I should have been prepared for this question but my mind just went blank, what am I going to say? I give a faint smile. Yes , that's how dire this situation is , I cannot even pretend.

As Zayn's question hangs in the air, I feel a wave of unease wash over me, my heart pounding with guilt. 

"Their father..." 

I falter, my gaze flickering away momentarily before I force myself to meet his eyes, my expression carefully composed. 

"He's not in the picture." 

I reply, my tone steady despite the turmoil raging within me. It's a lie, and I know it, but at this moment, it's the only shield I have to protect myself and my children from the judgment I fear from him. 

The weight of my deception settles heavily on my shoulders, but I push aside the guilt, steeling myself against the consequences of my past actions. As the silence stretches between us, I can't help but wonder: What does that make me?

Zayn's gaze lingers on me, his expression filled with curiosity and concern. 

"Where is he?" 

He inquires gently, his voice soft with understanding. I swallow hard, my throat tightening with apprehension as I search for the right words. 

"He's...," 

I begin, my mind racing to concoct another lie to shield myself from the truth. But as I meet Zayn's unwavering gaze, something shifts within me, a flicker of honesty breaking through the facade I've constructed. 

"He's not a part of our lives." 

I admit, the words tumbling out with a vulnerability I hadn't anticipated. It's a partial truth, a carefully crafted evasion, but at this moment, it feels like a small step toward absolution. As Zayn absorbs my response, his eyes soften with empathy, and for a fleeting instant, I allow myself to hope that maybe, just maybe, it's going to be enough for him to move on from these questions surrounding my children's father , but I guess I spoke too soon! 

Zayn's gentle inquiry pierces through my defenses, his concern palpable in the way he searches my eyes for answers. 

"Where does he stay?" 

He asks, his voice tinged with a hint of urgency. 

"I just want to see him,"

He adds, how I wish I could also see him. His words carry a note of determination. My heart lurches at his request, a surge of panic coursing through me as I struggle to maintain the facade of deception. 

"He's...," I begin, my voice faltering as I search for a plausible explanation. But as I meet Zayn's unwavering gaze, I find myself unable to conjure up another lie. 

"I don't know," 

I admit finally, the admission hanging heavy in the air between us. It's the truth, albeit a painful one, and as Zayn absorbs my words, I can see the flicker of disappointment in his eyes. But instead of pressing further, he simply nods, his expression softening with understanding. In that moment, I'm struck by the depth of his compassion, and I can't help but feel a glimmer of gratitude for the understanding he extends to me, even in the face of my deceit.

It's going to make me feel better that at least he knows that I don't know where the father of the Twins is. As the weight of my confession hangs heavy in the air, a moment of silence stretches between us, tension crackling with unspoken truths. 

Seeking to break the uneasy stillness, I muster the courage to pose a question of my own. 

"Do you have any children?"

I inquire tentatively, my voice barely above a whisper. Zayn's response is measured, his gaze distant as he shakes his head. 

"No." 

He replies softly, his words tinged with a hint of melancholy. 

"I was once married, but it didn't work out." 

His admission resonates with a quiet resignation, a glimpse into the depths of his past and the scars he carries. In that moment, I find myself drawn to the vulnerability he shares, a shared understanding of the complexities of love and loss. And as our conversation continues, I can't help but feel a sense of kinship with this man whose heart, like mine, bears the weight of past regrets and unspoken sorrows.

"If we ever get married," 

I declare, my voice unwavering despite the uncertainty that lingers in the depths of my heart, 

"We are never breaking up." The conviction in my words echoes with a steadfast resolve, a promise born from the depths of my soul. In that moment, I feel a surge of hope wash over me, a belief in the possibility of a future built on trust, honesty, and unwavering commitment. 

And as Zayn meets my gaze, his eyes shimmering with unspoken emotion, I know that we are bound together by a shared promise, a vow to weather life's storms together, no matter what may come.