Chapter 56

CHAPTER 56

ZAYN

W aking up next to Marigold should've been the most peaceful moment of my life. But of course, the universe had other plans. My phone had been buzzing nonstop since dawn, lighting up like the Fourth of July on the nightstand. I didn't need to check it to know what was going on. News had broken about our engagement, or rather, our broken engagement.

I had done my best to ignore it, hoping it would eventually stop. Apparently, that was not going to happen. I didn't want it to wake up Marigold. I supposed part of me wanted her to stay in my bed as long as possible because when she got up this was over.

At least for now. There was no way in hell I was actually going to let her get away from me. I loved her. She loved me. I was pretty damn sure there was a workaround for the other stuff.

I glanced over at her, tucked under the covers like a kid hiding from the world. She looked so peaceful, so unaffected. How the hell did she manage that?

Not wanting to disturb her, I grabbed my phone and quickly checked the notifications. Yep, the internet was doing exactly what I expected it to do. Headlines painted me as the heartless billionaire playboy who broke the heart of America's sweetheart.

Zayn Bancroft, the asshole.

Perfect.

I scrolled through some of the comments, trying to ignore the tightening in my chest.

Poor Marigold. She deserved better.

What a jerk. I always knew he wasn't good enough for her.

She's better off without him.

They weren't wrong. I wasn't good enough for her. Never had been. But that was the point, wasn't it? Let the world believe she was the innocent one, and I was the bad guy. It was how I wanted it. Marigold didn't need more reasons to hate me.

A few texts from my brothers popped up.

Yo, you okay?

Heard the news. Want to talk?

We're here if you need anything.

I snorted. They acted like I'd just gone through a breakup. Well, technically, I had. But it wasn't your run-of-the-mill breakup. I tapped out quick replies to each of them.

I'm fine. Don't worry about me.

I put the phone back down and rubbed my hand over my face. As if on cue, Marigold stirred beside me, her eyelids fluttering open. I panicked and shoved the phone under the pillow, smiling down at her like a guy who hadn't just been roasted online.

"Morning," I said, trying to sound casual.

She yawned, stretching lazily under the covers. "Mmm, morning." Her eyes flicked to the clock, and her face fell. "I have to get up. The movers are coming today."

I frowned. "Already?"

She nodded, pulling the blanket tighter around herself. "I need to meet them there and make sure they get everything. And I still have to clean the apartment. I figured I would wait until everything was out first."

"I'll help," I offered, knowing full well she'd say no.

Her lips curled into a smile, and she raised an eyebrow. "After last night's attempt at cooking, do you really think that's a good idea?"

She wasn't wrong. Last night, I'd nearly burnt the kitchen down while Marigold stood there laughing her ass off. I did not have cooking skills. Apparently, I should have paid a little more attention when my mother was in the kitchen. Or learned how to read a recipe.

I saw some cooking shows in my future. I didn't want to repeat that disaster. A man should be able to cook a meal for the woman he loved, even if it was something simple. It seemed I still had some growing up to do.

"It can't be that hard to clean, right?" I said.

She looked at me like I'd lost my mind. "You? Clean? Zayn, you probably think ‘cleaning' is something like paying your housekeeper or putting your dirty clothes in the laundry."

I scoffed. "Rude. I know how to use a mop. The wet end goes on the floor."

She rolled her eyes and threw the blanket off her. "Fine. You can help. But if you break anything, I'm going to take a picture and announce it to the world you are completely inept outside of the boardroom."

I grinned. "Deal. We'll grab breakfast before we start. I'm going to need the energy."

"I need coffee," Marigold said.

I followed her to a café. It was probably a bad idea for us to be seen together, but we could always say it was breakup related.

We ordered coffee, croissants, and scrambled eggs. Marigold looked tired, dark circles under her eyes and her hair in disarray. But she still looked beautiful to me, even more so in this state of vulnerability. We had been up late last night, taking advantage of every minute we had together.

We sat in a comfortable silence, sipping our coffee and watching the world start its day through the café windows. I watched as she picked at her food. I wanted to reach out and tell her everything was going to be okay.

But I didn't know that. I was feeling the same way. I didn't know what came next. I hated not knowing.

We finished our breakfasts and grabbed two more coffees to go. Once at her place, I looked around and felt a stabbing feeling in my heart. This was it. She was packed and leaving.

"Wow," I said.

She offered a smile. "Yep. That's my life packed up in that corner."

I was surprised by how little she had. A man wearing blue overalls appeared in the open door. "Miss Reed?"

"That's me." Marigold smiled.

He looked around like even he was surprised. "Is there another room?" he asked.

"The bedroom has a few things," she said.

He nodded. "Alright, we'll get started."

With that, the moving crew filtered into the small apartment. Marigold gave them some quick instructions and showed them what to take. The apartment wasn't big enough to get lost in.

I looked around. The warm, homey feel of it had been stripped away, along with all of Marigold's possessions. There were no more mismatched throw pillows on the couch or family photos on display. It all felt so sad. So final.

It wasn't long before Marigold was signing the paperwork, and the movers left. We both stood in the center of the now empty apartment. There was a box of cleaning supplies on the kitchen counter and a box with a blowup mattress in the corner. She had told me earlier that was what she planned on sleeping on for her last night in the apartment. It seemed silly for her to sleep on that thing when I had a perfectly good bed at my place.

"Last chance to back out of the cleaning," Marigold said.

"Not a chance. I'm here. Let's do this."

She handed me some paper towels and a bottle of cleaner. "Start with the windows. I'll handle the kitchen."

I stared at the paper towels like they were foreign objects. "Windows? Don't you need like, a squeegee for that?"

Marigold laughed and shook her head. "Just clean the damn windows, Zayn. Squirt some blue stuff and then wipe with the towels."

I sighed and got to work, scrubbing at the glass while she tackled the countertops. It didn't take long for things to descend into chaos. I managed to smear dirt across one of the windows instead of cleaning it, and Marigold found it hilarious.

"Wow, you really are terrible at this," she teased, wiping a spot on the counter.

"Hey, I never claimed to be a professional window washer," I shot back, scrubbing harder.

She chuckled. "Clearly. What about sweeping? You said you knew how to use a broom."

"I've seen it before." I nodded. "I can do that."

Marigold raised an eyebrow. "Alright then, Mr. Confident. Show me." She waved the broom in my direction and handed it over with a smirk. With a roll of my eyes, I rolled up my sleeves and took the broom from her.

"And they say chivalry is dead," I retorted. Marigold bit back a smile as I made a show of wielding the broom like a knight readying his sword for battle.

The sweeping was easier than the windows, but within minutes, I found myself sending dust clouds whirling around the room instead of collecting them into a neat pile. Marigold sneezed and quickly covered her nose with the back of her hand, laughing uncontrollably. "You're making more of a mess than there was originally!"

"Alright, alright," I surrendered, setting the broom down and holding up my hands in defeat. Marigold pointed me in the direction of the garbage bags. "Maybe you can manage to tie up the trash," she suggested, wiping her eyes.

"Sounds safe enough," I agreed, moving to gather up half-filled takeout containers and candy wrappers that had been left behind during the packing process. "Can't say I've ever had to do this before, but how hard can it be?"

"Famous last words," she muttered.

I piled the bags by the door and returned to Marigold, who had finally stopped laughing and was quietly scrubbing at a stubborn stain on the counter. For a little while, it was easy to forget why we were even there. It felt normal, like any other couple cleaning their place. Except we weren't normal. And this wasn't going to last.

Her landlord came by at one point to check in on us. He was a piece of work. Hard-nosed, grumpy, and obsessed with making sure everything was spotless before she moved out. Marigold handled him with grace, but I could tell she was annoyed. And frankly, so was I. I had half a mind to buy the damn building just so she didn't have to deal with him.

By the time we were done, the apartment was spotless, and we were both hot and sweaty. I was glad she was getting out of the shitty place. The heat was apparently stuck on. The landlord said he was working on it, but Marigold said it was always like that. Really hot or really cold.

I wiped a bead of sweat from my forehead and glanced at her.

"Shower?" I suggested.

She smiled, wiping her hands on a rag. "Definitely. But I'm warning you, my shower is a quarter the size of your shower."

I grinned. "Don't threaten me with a good time."

The water was lukewarm. I stood behind Marigold, my chest touching her back. I ran my fingers through her hair as I massaged shampoo into it. The scent of lavender filled the small space. I couldn't help but savor the moment. Every touch, every breath—this was our last time together, and I didn't want to waste a second.

She leaned back against me, her eyes closed, letting the water run over her face. I kissed the top of her head, my hands sliding down to her waist as I pulled her closer.

We stayed like that for a while, just enjoying the quiet intimacy. But eventually, the reality of the situation crept back in. She was leaving. We couldn't pretend forever.

The water went from lukewarm to chilly to ice cold in a minute. We both yelped and hopped out.

I reached for a towel, only to find there was only one left.

"You take it," I said, holding it out to her.

She smirked and snatched it from my hand. "Thanks."

Before I could protest, she wrapped the towel around herself and darted out of the bathroom, leaving me dripping wet and naked.

"Oh, come on!" I shouted, chasing after her.

Marigold laughed, running through the apartment with the towel barely clinging to her. I followed, my feet slapping against the hardwood floor as I closed the distance between us.

When I finally caught her, I pulled her into my arms, both of us laughing. I kissed her neck. She squealed, trying to squirm away, but I held her tight, spinning her around until her towel dropped to the floor.

The windows were wide open, and if anyone had been looking in, they'd have gotten quite the show. But I didn't care. Right now, it was just us. Nothing else mattered.

I kissed her deeply, our slick, naked bodies sliding together.