sixteen. better&now
"Family plays as big a role in marriage as the husband and wife. You're married to your spouse's family just like you're married to them."
_
Body language is important.
Zayn and Stevie sit together, side-by-side on a couch across from the television show's co-producer; the co-producer of "Married at First Sight."
She smiles. Her name is Abby, and most often the Malik's were individually interviewed by Lauren, the director.
Stevie didn't care much for Abby, and that wasn't only because she thought this short, blonde woman had a crush on Zayn.
But, Zayn has no idea--he's such a guy--and it's evident that he's got eyes for no one but his wife. She's leaning against his chest and his hand's on her knee. He's got a lidded smile, his hand rubbing up the exposed skin on her thigh, as she crosses her legs and hooks her arm through his.
"So, how's the happy couple?"
Zayn looks first to Stevie.
He smiles. "We're good," he nods. And he turns to Abby, nodding again. "We're good..."
Abby turns to Stevie. "Can Mrs. Malik say the same?"
Stevie looks to Zayn. She hates Abby. Really. "I agree with him," she smiles at Zayn. "We are."
Zayn smiles back.
"Well," Abby jumps back to the questions, her eyes flickering to the couple. "You two look well-rested," she nods, "I take it the honeymoon went well?"
"It brought us closer, yeah?" Zayn removes his hand from Stevie's knee, slipping it into her free hand. "We needed it," he nods. "It was needed."
"Really?" Abby prods. "Please expound upon that, Zayn."
"Well," he shrugs, "It's been a while since we'd...well, since we'd--"
"Been close," Stevie finishes.
"Zayn," Abby interjects, "is that true?"
"Stevie said it," Zayn nods. "Of course it's true."
"But, I wanted to hear your answer. I'm giving you both opportunities to speak."
Stevie rolls her eyes.
"Anyway," Abby continues, flipping pages on the notes she'd taken on her iPad, "I assume the downtime for you guys was good, huh? With you being previously acquainted and all."
Zayn hums, squeezing Stevie's hand.
"So, Zayn you said in a recent interview that you and Stevie were "getting to know each other, again," she looks between the two of them, "Do you think this time has reestablished your past relationship?"
"Well, I'll say it again," answers Zayn, "I don't think anything will ever bring us back to where we were in college, right? Like, we were kids. We were still figuring things out and I don't like to dwell on the past. I'm really just focused on moving forward, now. I just want us to build the best relationship for ourselves with our new circumstances."
Stevie smiles up at her man.
She squeezes his hand. "Great answer, babe."
His grin grows, "You agree with that, love?"
She hums. "I agree with that."
"Seems like you two are getting along just fine," Abby murmurs. "And Stevie," Abby looks up from the iPad, "how are you handling married life, considering your mother isn't here to guide you through it?"
Stevie freezes.
This is why she didn't fuck with Abby.
Stevie exits her mind and returns to the interview at the feel of Zayn's gentle squeeze. They'd been doing that since they had "graduated" to couple's interviews, instead of single ones.
"I--" She blinks, "Getting my sister's approval is just like getting my mom's," she says. "So, since they're happy. I know in my heart my mom is, too."
Zayn kisses the side of her head.
"Well," Abby adjusts her sweater, "in that case, Stevie, since you didn't know your dad--"
"Excuse me, what?"
And sure, the show knew that basic information. Stevie knew that. She knew that producers and crew and whoever else on this television program all knew both of her parents were deceased, but everything else?
But, this?
"Since you didn't know your dad--"
"Excuse me?" Stevie feels her cheeks grow warm, "How did you know that?'
"Why, your husband of course," Abby lifts a brow. "Do you two not share the topics you discuss in the interviews?"
She turns to Zayn, blinking. "You told them about my dad?"
"No," he exclaims quickly. "Like, I said you grew up with your mom, s'all. I said your uncle gave you away at the wedding 'cause your dad wasn't a part of your life--"
"He left your mom after getting married, right?" Abigail prods. "Right, Stevie? She raised you and your sisters by yourself, didn't she?"
And before Stevie can answer, Abby's pursed her lips.
"Do you know children whose parents have divorced are more likely to divorce themselves? Were you aware of that?"
"No," Stevie and Zayn reply simultaneously.
And Abigail hums.
"Well, then," and she types some things on her iPad. "Now," she clears her throat, "how do you think this will affect you?"
Stevie slips her hand from Zayn's.
She shifts forward on the couch.
"What," she grits, "do you mean?"
"Well," Abby smiles, "the honeymoon phase is coming to an end, Stevie," she pouts, shrugging, "It's only natural that you both start looking forward to the next step--the next steps you'll be taking as newlyweds."
"Well," Stevie begins, almost defensively now because she's over Abby--she's been over her. "I would love to start a family one day--"
"Stevie, Zayn called you a 'caretaker--'"
"A natural caretaker," he stresses, taking her hand again in his. "She's a natural."
"--so, are you ready for children, yet? What' the next step for the two of you?"
"And, I'd love children," Stevie says. "I'd just--"
"Interesting," Abby nods. "Zayn, you said the opposite, remember?"
"I don't--"
"You said..." And Abby flips through her iPad and taps and taps and Zayn is frowning and Zayn is squeezing the life out of Stevie's hand. "You said that you 'weren't ready for the responsibility.'"
"Yet," he clarifies, and Stevie runs her thumb across his knuckles. "I'm not ready for them, yet," and he's saying these words, staring at Stevie.
Yes, Zayn wanted a wife.
But, Zayn was lonely. And Zayn hadn't recovered from the one girl who'd broken his heart after college.
And now, look.
He's sitting beside his wife, his best friend, and he stares into her brown eyes and he's brought to smile, again.
But, a family?
But, kids?
That was taking things a step and a half too far.
"One day, yeah. But, like..." He shakes his head, "I'd like us to be in a better place. I'm in no rush."
"But, Stevie," Abby nods, "you want kids now?" And she begins tapping something on that iPad. "How do you think your single-parent home will affect your relationship with your own children?"
"Excuse me?"
"We don't have children, yet."
"But, you want them, clearly," Abby shrugs. "And, as you know, The more similar people are in their values, backgrounds, and life goals, the more likely they are to have a successful marriage. The less similar, the higher likelihood of divorce."
Abby peers over her Ray-Ban optical frames, "Children are a huge deal."
"And--"
"After all, your biological clock is ticking, isn't it."
"She's in her late twenties," Zayn says, answering before she can respond.
"Of course, but--"
"But," he bites, "But, what? What's this got to do with us?"
"It's my job to question, and I asked her--"
"And she, in no way, has to answer," he replies. "So fuck that, and I don't care if it's on camera."
Abby is beet red and Stevie is smiling.
Abby clears her throat. "So, what would you say your biggest challenges will be, moving forward?" she asks. "Once the honeymoon stage ends, real life takes over," she lifts an eyebrow. "Are you ready for that?"
Interviews were Zayn's least favorite part of this whole ordeal.
On the day of Zayn's wedding, Harry had helped him with his cufflinks and his tie and the two of them had talked.
"I'm happy for you, Zayn."
The words had caught Zayn off guard, actually. After speaking with Liam and his mother and father and sisters, it was like no one was happy for him. It was like no one wanted him to go through with this whole thing.
And it was giving him second doubts.
Until he'd talked to Harry.
"Wha--What, Haz?"
Harry chuckled. "I'm happy for you," he had repeated. "I really am."
"Thanks," Zayn had blinked. He wasn't expecting this, and it had been nice--really nice--to hear. "Wow, uh. Thanks, mate."
"Before you know it, you'll be watching kids play and--"
"Whoa, whoa," Zayn had laughed. "Kids? That's fast-forwarding quite a bit into the future, Hazza."
"Sure?" Harry cocked his head sideways. "Out of all of us, you seem like you'd be the first. You know, like you'd be the first to cross all the major milestones in life," he'd said. "Marriage. Great career. A real house. Kids..."
"Seriously?" Zayn had laughed.
"Yeah," Harry had nodded.
And Harry had been dead serious.
"Seriously."
Stevie was exhausted.
"I fucking hate that bitch."
"Really?" Zayn grins, as Stevie falls onto the bed in their suite. "Couldn't tell."
"And I hate all those damn questions," she mutters, covering her eyes with her arm. "It's like they find shit that's supposed to fuck everything up. Like, they want to throw the most touchy, invasive subjects in our faces and watch that shit tear us all apart. No wonder every other couple is struggling!"
"S'why this is a social experiment," he chuckles, joining her on the bed.
"Can't they want people to be happy? Like, wasn't that the whole fucking point they sold us on?"
Zayn leans forward, planting a kiss on her cheek. "Well, like, some shit is important, you know, that they bring up."
She snorts. "Like what?"
"Like," he begins, "what's next."
She lifts her arm so Zayn is given full access to her narrowed eyes. "You taking notes from that bitch, now?"
"Stevie," he chuckles, shaking his head, "c'mon."
"Yeah, that was extra," she muses. And she stares at the ceiling, her lip pulled between her teeth and Zayn waits for her to voice whatever's on her mind.
She rolls on top of him.
"What would you do if I was pregnant?"
Zayn stiffens beneath her. "Stevie, are you--"
"I'm not," she exclaims, laughing all of a sudden. "Oh no," she shakes her head. "I'm not."
She traces one of the wings sprawled across his chest. "But, like...if I was..."
"If you were...?" He blinks confusedly. "What?" And it finally hits him, "What, like...pregnant?"
"Mhm," she nods. "If I was," she sits up against him, "what would you--" She shakes her head, "Well, we, now. What would we do, Zayn?"
"I don't even--" He blinks.
And he shakes his head, "This's that shit I'm talking about. These are those questions we gotta answer. And like, actually talk about."
"Okay," she hums, "so answer the question."
"Answer this one, first," he states. "Where're we going home to, Stevie?" He continues. "Who's moving where?" He shakes his head, "We keep mentioning that and never have the full discussion."
"Well," she peers up at him, "what do you want to do?"
He laughs. "Obviously I want you to move in with me."
Stevie pouts. "But, I have a house."
"Where?"
"Uh..."
"Where is it, Stevie?"
"West Palm Beach..."
"Ha-!" Zayn laughs. "That's a whole three hours outside of Miami--"
"It's not that far--"
"And you commute every day?" He shakes his head as she nods, chuckling abashedly, "No. It's settled. You're moving in with me."
"Ugh..." She grumbles, rolling away from him and covering her eyes again with her hands. "No fair."
"You're gonna love it," Zayn grins, sliding closer to her.
She tries to move away from him, but he keeps coming back.
Her groans are making him laugh, now.
"Let me be upset by myself, man."
"No," he kisses her arm, "'Cause you're really actually happy as shit."
When she doesn't respond, Zayn kisses her neck.
And he laughs softly against her; he he had not been lying when he told Abby that he was happy.
Holy shit, Zayn was happy.
Finally.
___
Sorry this took so long guys I've been sick and working a lot which is a bad combo
Comment and vote thoooo 😅
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