My Light

Zayn's POV


I can't stay here in New York. I just can't. I love this city but I can't stay here. I have to leave. I stayed because of Nora, now she's not even here. She's not even in this country.

When I left her building I just wondered around. For hours. I literally just walked around in circles, I think I passed her building thousands of times. And every time I passed it my heart broke a little more.

I did this. This is my fault, not hers. I ignored her. For no reason other then the fact that I was selfish. I was focused on me, I didn't know how to deal with what I did and things happened so quickly that I let it get out of control. I waited too long, I pushed her away when it should have been the other way around.

I called my mum, she was always protective of me getting into a new relationship, we didn't always agree but she tried to see my point of view, she tried to help me and understand where I was coming from. She told me that if I felt like I need to be with her then I needed to do what I felt was best. If I needed her then I had to do whatever it took. Of course she told me that I was an idiot for my choices and that I shouldn't have kept this secret from her or ignored her calls during Samara's time in the hospital.

But I did.

Those are the choices that I made and the ones that I have to live with now.

It's been three days since I talked to Angela. Three days of me moping around and waiting for a miracle. I don't know what kind of miracle I want because it's not like she's just going to appear at my doorstep and throw her arms around me. Three days of me either sitting on the bed or sitting on the couch. Three days of me wallowing in self pity.

Today I went outside, got breakfast and coffee. I didn't care for the sunlight on my face or the breeze in the sky. I tried to just let myself be. I took the same path that Nora and I took a few times, looking for her. I swear I'm looking for her everywhere. But she's everywhere. Every flower I see reminds me of her, even the ones that are weeds. Every brunette from behind I think is her. Every florist shop I pass I look in for her. I know she's not here, Angela has no reason to lie to me but I'm not ready for this process, not ready to let her go and move on.

Except I don't have the courage to move on either.

I took the subway. It was a mistake but I had some people that recognized me and I wasn't in the mood for more socialization so I had to duck out quickly. So I took the train. It still smells the same, the stale pee and body odor. Maybe she'll be here. God, my brain is insane right now. I count and walk quickly to the third car. The third car was the one she always got into. Its crowded in the morning, people rushing to work, children trying to get their mom's attention, people tapping their feet. It's just like the first day I saw her. I listen to the noise from the train, the squeaks from the tracks, the doors opening and closing, the change in the air because the car is too crowded.

I want that moment again. That moment where time freezes and and you have to tell your lungs to breath in and out. I can picture her sitting across from me, crossing her legs at the ankle, pulling her bag away from her shoulder to rummage through. I can still see her reading a book. I remember her skinny fingers wrapped in bandages, at the time I had no idea what for but now I know it was for the rose thorns. How her brown hair was just flowing, she always pushed it to one side. How she rendered me speechless. She had a quiet grace about her that I couldn't come close to. She dressed effortlessly, everything looked good on her.

I think back to that day I first saw her, I wish I would have gotten the courage that day. Or the next day, or that I would have just ran after her and gave her that book back. We could have struck up a conversation and we could be in a totally different place then we are right now. I feel my hands start to shake, I need to get out of here. I can't be on this train. I lean my head back and close my eyes, it's like the feeling of motion sickness has wrecked my soul. The breaks start to grind and I prepare my departure, I don't know where we're stopping but I don't give a shit. I need to go back home.

It's just a feeling, a feeling of despair. When you need to survive, you do it day by day, hour by hour, minute by minute. I'm forgetting her voice. The way she had a quiet laugh yet she could fill the whole room with brightness when she smiled. How she was stubborn but could make you bend until you broke at times. She captivated me since day one.

I rummage through my things in my office, my office that I've turned into an art center basically. I've got things everywhere. My supplies all strewn about on the desk or the floor. I've even found some colored pencils under the couch. This place doesn't feel like home anymore, I haven't stayed the night in over four months. It's foreign. I had expected to come home after Christmas and just be with Nora, for our lives to finally start. Then things got complicated and I ran away. Running away and shutting people out is what I do best. And that hurts people the most. In the end it hurts me the most.

And then I find them. The pictures I drew of her. Mostly from memory, early pictures of her sitting on the subway reading, or when I would take pictures of her creating floral masterpieces. She doesn't give herself enough credit for what she does, did I guess. She created arrangements of beauty. Living arrangements of beauty.

I have to leave. I have to leave this place. I have the means to leave, so why shouldn't I. Why should I wallow away in self pity when I can leave? But what if she comes back? What if Nora comes back and then she can't find me? I take a deep breath and sit on my office chair, spinning around with my feet, spinning around so much my phone falls out of my pocket and lands with a thud on the floor. I stop quickly and retrieve it, my fingers finding courage I didn't know I had.

Before I can stop my self I'm calling her. I'm calling Nora. I'm shaking at the sound of the dial. I can't do this. Before I can hang up she answers.

“Hello.” She speaks, my eyes grow wide, I never expected her to answer. I expected her to never speak with me again. To shut me out completely. To do what I did to her. “Zayn?” She asks and my heart explodes, she's said my name.

“Nora.” My voice comes out weak and quiet. I have to clear my throat to create my voice again.

“Hello Zayn.” She combines her previous two words and it's still so simple, still emotionally killing me.

“Thank you for answering.” I tell her as she laughs just a little bit.

“Well I haven't seen your name on my phone for quite some time so I didn't know if it was real or not to be honest.” I deserve that, I deserve that bit of hell, quite frankly I deserve much more then a little comment.

“I'm sorry.” I tell her.

“We don't have to talk about that right now Zayn. I heard you talked with my mom.” She's either not ready to talk about that or she's over it, I'm sure she's not over it.

“I came to see you but I heard you were already gone. I'm sorry about Nonna Nora.” I wipe my mouth, my knees just jumping.

“Thank you. But I have a feeling that's not why you have called.” She brushes it aside but I know she's still upset about it, I still remember how the pitch in her voice changed even if it was slightly when something upset her.

“I want to see you. I feel like we need to talk about everything.” She's never going to go for this, I wouldn't be surprised if she hung up the phone right now. I get no answer from her and I don't know what to do. “Nora?” I ask again.

“I'm here.” She reminds me, her voice quieter. “I need more time Zayn.” I let my body lean back and my face falls, what if she never wants to talk to me again? I have to respect that, these are the choices I made.

“Okay.” It's all I can say, I want to say more, my brain is just racing but it's not something that is making the connection to my vocal chords.

“Give me three weeks. I have plans to be in Rio in three weeks. Meet me there?” She asks and my heart literally leaps.

“Three weeks.” I say. “I'll be anywhere you want me to be in three weeks.” She hangs up the phone before we can arrange any other plans and that's okay, she answered the phone. She's giving me a shot. She's trying. I'm going to do everything I can.

Notes

So Nora might be a little bitter, maybe just defensive from everything. Who can really blame her? They're both in not so great spots right now. But they're meeting!

Thank you so much for all the votes and subscriptions here recently, it's greatly appreciated! I hope you all enjoy this story, no matter the outcome! :)

A big shoutout to @not_any_maryjane for helping me through this chapter! She helped me brainstorm and her ideas are always amazing!

xoxoxox