As the weight of uncertainty bears down on me, I can't bear to remain seated a moment longer. The walls of the room feel like they're closing in, suffocating me with their silent accusations.
Inside my mind, a relentless stream of questions and answers swirl, a maddening carousel of doubt and fear. How can I rid myself of these brothers, whose presence now feels like a looming threat?
It's a fleeting thought, a desperate attempt to regain control, but I quickly dismiss it. This house, a gift from Zayn, I'd like to believe that it's a symbol of our love and commitment, and I can't bring myself to betray that, even in the face of mounting uncertainty.
I make my way to the liquor cabinet.
Retrieving a bottle of whisky and four glasses, I arrange them neatly on a tray before returning to the table.
There's a sense of purpose in my movements, a silent declaration that I refuse to be a passive observer in my own life.
