[BL] CRAVING HIM: Addicted to His Voice-Chapter 336: Heart-to-Heart Unspoken Pain

~Evric’s POV~

Zayn looked up at me, his eyes wide with concern, and asked, "Babe, are you sure everything is okay?"

I gave him a diminutive, reassuring smile. "Sure, baby." I asked, "Why do you ask?"

He said nothing, just studied my face for another moment, then sighed softly. "Okay, baby." He agreed to the two weeks of isolation.

I kissed him, a simple, firm kiss that sealed the decision.

I started stroking his back, rubbing small, circular patterns across his shoulder blades, trying to soothe him, but my mind wouldn’t quiet. Everything he had said moments earlier replayed relentlessly in my head, the way he spoke about loving a woman with pride, and the stark contrast to the unspoken shame he seemed to attach to being seen after being intimate with a man.

I kept stroking his back until his breathing deepened and evened out, and he finally fell asleep.

Then, I gently put his head on the pillow, covered him completely with the duvet, and silently stepped outside the room. I needed space, and I needed to gather myself.

I found Zayn’s mother exactly where I had left her, absorbed in her show. When she noticed me approaching, she paused the television.

"Hey, son," she said warmly as I joined her on the sofa. Then she looked around and asked, "Where’s Zayn?"

"Zayn is already fast asleep," I told her, trying to keep my voice light.

She studied me for a long while, her gaze perceptive and unnerving. "Evric," she began, gently. "Tell me honestly, is everything okay?"

I attempted to dismiss her concern. "Yes, Mom, I’m fine."

She shook her head softly. "You don’t look well," she said gently. "You look weighed down." Her gaze stayed on me, perceptive and warm. "You know you can always talk to me, Evric. I can see the worry in your eyes."

Her persistence broke my composure slightly. "We are leaving tomorrow," I stated, changing the subject, needing to confirm the timeline.

She nodded calmly. "I wish you a safe trip home, dear. But I know what is going through your mind is not about leaving."

She nodded. "I wish you a safe journey home," she said kindly. Then her gaze sharpened with quiet understanding. "But I can tell, your mind isn’t troubled because you’re leaving."

She took my hands in hers, the quiet warmth of a mother’s touch clashing with the icy calculations consuming my thoughts. "Evric," she asked gently, "what happened?"

That small, simple gesture, the warmth of her touch, the sincerity of her concern, was enough to break me. The quiet strain I’d been holding in, already stirred by Zayn’s earlier confession, finally gave way. I folded forward, covering my face as tears spilled out, hot and sudden. I cried in silence, crushed beneath the weight of everything I hadn’t said.

I quickly regained some control, pulling one hand away to frantically wipe the moisture from my face. "I’m so sorry, Mom," I choked out, apologizing for my unprofessional display.

"It’s okay, Evric," she soothed, pulling me closer. "It’s okay to cry if it’s too much."

I drew in a trembling breath. "Zayn... he’s hurting me. Not in a way you can see, it’s not physical. It’s complicated, so personal that I can’t put it into words, Mom. But it’s real, and it hurts... more than I can explain."

Zayn’s mother gave my hands a gentle squeeze. "You may not be able to explain it, but I can see your pain, Evric. I’m truly sorry for everything Zayn has done that hurts you."

"I love him too much," I admitted, my voice heavy with emotion. "But lately, I’ve realized our relationship isn’t moving forward because of certain reasons. Mom... if you’re planning to spend the rest of your life with someone, he should at least be able to match seventy to eighty percent of your energy, your commitment. Right."

"Yes, you’re absolutely right," she affirmed. "You deserve that balance and respect."

"I fell silent, exhaustion washing over me again. I reached up to wipe my eyes, feeling the weight of sharing only half the story suddenly meaningless, yet necessary to protect Zayn’s privacy."

"It’s okay, Mom," I said, forcing a slight, wobbly smile. "I’m fine now."

Zayn’s mother didn’t try to press for more details. Instead, she gently rubbed my hands, offering a quiet, deep wisdom that transcended the specific problem.

"Evric, my son is a good man," she said softly. "But he is still learning how to be a complete man, one who is fully secure in his choices and his happiness. And that, sometimes, takes longer than we, as their partners, would like."

"You are his anchor," she continued. "Your love is not just a comfort; it is the foundation he stands on. When you feel this hurt, remember that his journey toward self-acceptance is not finished yet, and that sometimes, the people closest to us are the ones who bear the brunt of our internal battles. You have to be patient, but you must also be clear about what you need. You’re an extraordinary partner, Evric. Please don’t ever doubt that."

She held my gaze steadily. "Whatever is keeping your relationship from moving forward, remember this: love is powerful, but respect is what holds it together. I have complete faith in you, dear. Everything will work out, just speak to him openly, honestly, and without fear."

After that small but profound exchange, the crushing weight on my chest felt considerably lighter. Even though I hadn’t been able to articulate the deepest, most private wound, the little I had shared, coupled with her unwavering belief and solid advice, acted like a balm. I felt a definite sense of relief and was better equipped to face the challenges ahead.

I thanked her again, managing a genuine smile this time, and stood up. "I should go back inside and check on him. Thank you, Mom."

She waved me off gently. "Go on, dear."

I quietly opened the bedroom door. The room was silent, as soon as I entered, Zayn’s eyes fluttered open.

"Where were you?" he murmured sleepily, his voice thick.

"Just in the living room, baby," I replied, walking over to the bed. "I was sitting with your mom since you were asleep."

Zayn shifted, making a space for me on the bed. "Come, hold me to sleep," he mumbled, his voice dropping to a needy whisper. "I need a cuddle."

A genuine smile finally touched my lips. All the hurt faded that moment, when he was this soft and vulnerable. I climbed onto the bed and gently pulled him into my arms, spooning him against my chest. I kissed his shoulder, inhaling the comforting scent of him.

"Daddy is here to hold his baby," I murmured, tightening my embrace.