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“You look even better together,” Sara adds, pulling me into her arms next.

Zayn still hasn’t released my hand once.

After greeting my parents, he gently draws me in front of him, sliding an arm around my waist and resting his chin on top of my head.

“Jesus,” Sara gasps excitedly, practically squealing. “Stay exactly like that.”

She pulls out her phone and starts taking pictures of us. I feel Zayn laugh quietly behind me, which only makes me chuckle too.

By the time she’s probably taken five—or maybe ten—photos, she finally locks the phone and looks at Maya.

“Job well done,” she declares proudly, and the two of them high-five each other. Just like Sierra and Thalia did when Zayn and I announced we got back together.

“What job?” I ask curiously, smiling.

They exchange a mischievous look, then glance at their husbands, who are watching the two women with obvious amusement.

And love.

It still amazes me to see the same thing in both of those marriages that I see in my parents’ relationship—they’re just as in love as people are supposed to be at the beginning. They communicate effortlessly with a single glance, understand each other perfectly, and act like partners in absolutely everything.

It suddenly makes perfect sense why Zayn turned into such a respectful, attentive, incredibly well-mannered man.

“Mom,” he says slowly, realizing something is going on.

“Maybe we should go inside first,” Matthew suggests.

“Okay,” Zayn sighs, shaking his head with a smile on his gorgeous face.

Everyone lets us walk ahead, and I make sure he’s leaning more on me than on his injured leg. Behind us, the mothers continue dramatically inspecting every injury they spot, even though they already looked him over thoroughly when they hugged him.

Inside, we settle onto the couches in the living room, and the others sit across from us.

“This feels like an intervention,” Zayn remarks, studying all of them carefully.

“First of all,” Maya begins, “I need you to know that I can finally breathe again now that I’ve seen your injuries aren’t as serious as I feared they’d be.”

“I’m fine, Mom,” he reassures her. “I’m sorry I scared you.”

“You have no idea what this house looked like when we found out,” Matthew says with a serious expression.

Something flickers across Zayn’s face at that, and his eyes immediately move to me.

What is he thinking about?

“And now that we can finally calm down after seeing you in person,” Sara continues more cheerfully, “we have something to confess.”

Hearing that, my eyes snap to her and my entire body tenses instinctively, already bracing for the worst.

Do they not approve of our relationship?

Do they think we’re cute together, but I’m not right for Zayn?

Do they have a problem with us being together?

Jesus. My thoughts scatter in every direction at once, every fear I’ve ever had suddenly clawing its way to the surface.

As if he senses it, Zayn gently pulls me closer and presses a slow kiss to my forehead, taking his time as though he’s trying to calm every frantic thought racing through my mind.