Chapter 80: Seeing Through the Truth

Chapter 80: Chapter 80: Seeing Through the Truth Thorley. High school memories, once buried, rushed back sharply, stealing my breath. I walked closer, and we exchanged a casual greeting. "It’s been a long time, Evric," he said, my name falling from his lips easily. "It really has," I replied, forcing a smile. Seeing him again was unexpectedly good, though bittersweet. Back then, we could have been something, if only Chrisly hadn’t ruined everything. But that’s a story for another time. Afterward, I made my way inside to the part of the mansion prepared for the wedding. The decorations glimmered under the daylight, elegant and refined. I sought out my cousin first, and when I finally found him, I pulled him into a congratulatory embrace. He looked so happy, so proud in his suit. "Thank you, Evric," he said warmly, smiling widely. We chatted for a short while before I drifted away and headed downstairs again. More guests were arriving now, people like Rogan, Vanya, and her father. But the only one who truly made me smile was my mother. Seeing her there filled me with relief and warmth I couldn’t fake for the others. Finally, I settled with the others at the part of the event arranged for guests, letting the hum of celebration surround me. Finally, I settled with the others at the section arranged for guests, letting the hum of celebration surround me. Nuala slipped into the seat beside me, her eyes already scanning the room for details to whisper about. I knew she would talk and talk, weaving gossip out of every glance and gesture, and all I really had to do was nod along. The music shifted then, drawing everyone’s attention. The bride appeared, radiant in her gown, her arm hooked through her father’s as she walked down the aisle set within the grand courtyard of the mansion. Guests rose, applause breaking out, the air filled with the shimmer of joy. Vows were exchanged, rings slipped on fingers, and soon enough, laughter and cheers filled the warm afternoon light. It was a wedding, beautiful and elegant, a display of wealth that came mostly from the groom’s side. It was a wedding, beautiful and elegant, a display of wealth that came mostly from the groom’s side. By the time evening fell, the ceremony was moving toward its close. Now it was the time for eating, drinking, and mingling. Guests lined up to take pictures with the couple. Nuala practically dragged me along, insisting we also take a photo. I gave in, and just as we stepped down from the stage, Rogan sent for me. Chrisly teased, "Your father asked you to come." I sighed. I had planned to avoid him until the very end, but ignoring him was impossible. I went over and sat down, and immediately, my mom grabbed my hand. "Evric, don’t you plan on coming home at all? Chrisly and Nuala visit, but you never come." Rogan cut in, "Skip the lecture. That’s not why I called him here." His eyes pinned me. "What do you think about your cousin’s wedding?" I already knew where this was heading. I gave the safest answer I could. "The wedding was nice." He leaned back. "Didn’t you want it..." I interrupted quickly. "It’s someone else’s wedding, Father. It wouldn’t be right to raise an argument here." Then I stood and walked away, back to my table. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Vanya watching me. She had tried earlier to start a conversation, but I shut her down with a look. Maybe that was why she hadn’t approached me again. I liked it that way. As the night wore on, the wedding began to drag. The excitement had faded, and boredom crept in. That was when Nuala leaned closer. "By the way, who was that guy you greeted earlier?" I arched a brow. "You forgot? He was the one Chrisly caught me chatting with, then ran to tell my dad I liked boys. Do you remember?" Recognition dawned on her face. "Ah... yes. Honestly, Evric, I must say you have good taste. Almost everyone you’ve ever approached is ridiculously hot." I turned to her, surprised. "Really?" She grinned. "Yes. Rate them? Okay, let’s see. Thorley... he’s tall, good-looking, and his eyes are almost the same as Zayn’s. I’d give him a seven out of ten." I chuckled. "What about Nicki?" Her lips curved. "Nicki? I have to be honest, he’s damn handsome. Attractive in a way that pulls people in. If nothing else, he’s got the looks. Eight out of ten." Then, when she got to Zayn, she actually blushed. "All of them are fine, but Zayn... he’s something else. Do you know why?" I shook my head. "Because he looks handsome without trying. Mostly in casual wear, never doing too much, and yet he stands out. Zayn is a masterpiece. No doubt, ten out of ten." I rolled my eyes lightly, but she pressed on. "So, among the three, who do you really like? Be honest. The one who actually matches your energy. I’m not talking about love, just someone whose style you like, someone who feels like your match." I leaned back. "Count Thorley out. We don’t have history. But between Zayn and Nicki? If I’m honest, I’d choose Nicki, because love isn’t involved." Her brows shot up, the kind of look that asked, "Are you for real?" "You see, with Nicki, he never made me feel bad for wanting a man. With Zayn... I face it every day, even if I don’t admit it." Nuala grew quiet, then said, "You should understand why. Nicki and Zayn are from two different worlds. Nicki is gay, he never had to struggle with it. But Zayn... he’s straight." "I know," I murmured, "but it still hurts. Do you know what happened today? I went to see Zayn because I was worried about him, but he got angry just because I showed up, because he had warned me not to come before." She gave me a sharp look. "If he warned you, why did you still go?" I stared at her. "Are you blaming me too?" "Yes," she said flatly. "Evric, you feel comfortable in your world because that’s who you are. But ever since you made Zayn choose you, have you ever asked how he feels, living in a new world you pushed him into?" My lips opened, but no words came out. Nuala sighed and lowered her voice. "Can I be honest? Sometimes I see you as selfish. Do you know why? Because all you do is complain. You never really try to understand Zayn. He’s changing, trying, struggling... for you. But all you care about is the result. You want it all at once." Her honesty shattered the excuses I’d been clinging to. I leaned back, staring at the nearly empty glasses on the table. For once, I had nothing to say. "You like Nicki, my foot," Nuala scoffed, rolling her eyes. "I don’t even have beef with him before, but now? Ugh... I hate Nicki." I reached out to touch her, but she waved my hand away. "What surprised me more," she said bitterly, "is that Dad went to see him, and you never even thought about what he might have said. You only worry if he’s leaving you, not whether Dad’s words broke him, how he handled it, or if he’s even okay after that." "Nuala, you’re taking this too personal. You asked me to be honest. I never said I wanted him back, I only..." She cut in sharply, her voice trembling with frustration. "You can’t like someone else! Whether it’s like or love, it should only be Zayn." Her voice pierced through my defenses. "You say he’s just taking a rest from you," she went on, her voice steady but sharp, "but the truth is, he only wants to return to his normal life, a life where he doesn’t have to hide or feel threatened every single day." "Nua..." I called softly. She looked straight at me, her eyes firm. "Pity Zayn. Nobody who has ever met Father comes away unchanged. He must be shaken, but he’s hiding it from you. Even the strongest heroes have their weaknesses. Instead of complaining, you should focus on the pain he refuses to share with you. Don’t you see? He’s been so patient, calming you down when you’re angry, holding back his own hurt just to steady you. He’s trying in his own way, but you’re too blinded by your own desire to see it." Her words cut deeper than I expected. For the first time, I realized what I had been doing wrong. My chest tightened with guilt as I stood up. "Let’s talk again when I get back," I said quietly. Deep down, I knew Nuala liked Zayn as much as I did. But what struck me harder was that she understood him in ways I didn’t. I had been selfish, blinded by love, by desire, by what I wanted, without ever truly thinking about his feelings. Shaking off the weight of my thoughts, I picked up my phone and called him. "Babe, where are you?" I asked when he picked up. "I’m at the bar," he replied. "Are you with your friends?" I asked. "No, I’m alone," he said. I quickly asked him to share his location. Then, without another word, I left the wedding, my mind focused on finding him.