[BL] CRAVING HIM: Addicted to His Voice Chapter 170: Love in the Details

~Evric’s POV~

"Father, STOP!" I snapped, standing abruptly. My voice shook with anger. "Please, enough!"

Rogan’s eyes widened. Shock flickered across his face; he hadn’t expected to raise my voice.

"You can talk to however you want," I continued, my hands trembling, "but leave my boyfriend out of this! Every ti you show up, you crush him with your words. And I—I’m the one left to pick up the pieces, to heal the hurt you cause. Please, stop! Not again. Don’t insult him, stop destroying everything I work so hard to protect!"

"Evric... are you talking back to because of him?"

"Yes!" I shot back without hesitation. "Father, Zayn did nothing wrong. I did nothing wrong. If you hate this much just because of who I am, because I’m gay... then why don’t you just disown ? Why keep close only to hurt , and hurt the man I love?"

Rogan’s voice dripped with disdain. "Look at you, Evric. A grown man like you, supposed to have a woman by your side, a woman who can give you children. But instead, you choose your fellow man. What can that yield? Nothing. Such a waste of a life."

"Father—"

He cut off, his eyes cold. "As you are, you can’t even perform with a woman, but with a man? Pathetic."

The words sliced through . My blood boiled, and before I could stop myself, I shouted back, "I can’t perform with a woman because I don’t want to! Because I don’t desire it. Why should I force myself into sothing that disgusts just to fit your idea of normal?"

Rogan’s face turned red, his brows furrowed in rage.

I pressed on, my voice shaking but fierce. "So what if I can’t give you the ’perfect family’ you expect? So what if I can’t follow the path you laid out? I’d rather live my truth than live a lie, because the love I share with Zayn is real. That’s not a waste. That’s my happiness."

Zayn quickly stood and touched my arm. "Enough, babe." His voice was calm. "Please... enough."

I turned to him. "It’s not fair," I whispered hoarsely. "I was late because I didn’t check my phone. Why did he have to go so hard on us? I apologized, to him, to everyone."

Zayn’s gaze steadied mine. "That’s enough, okay?"

For a long mont, the room was silent. Rogan’s expression hardened, then faltered. Without another word, he turned and walked out of my office, leaving and Zayn alone in the quiet.

The door slamd shut behind Rogan, the echo ringing through the office. My anger and hurt tangled so tightly inside that I could barely stand.

Without thinking, I turned and wrapped my arms around Zayn, pulling him close. I buried my face in his shoulder, my voice breaking. "I don’t like to argue with him... I hate it. But why won’t he understand ? Why can’t he understand that you are my happiness?"

Zayn held tighter, stroking the back of my head gently. "It’s okay, Babe."

I shut my eyes, pressing my forehead against his. "I just want him to see , Zayn. Not his expectations, not his disappointnt. Just . Why is that so hard for him?"

Zayn cupped my cheek, forcing to et his steady gaze. His voice was calm but firm.

"Look, babe... I want you to know one thing. Your father is wrong but you can’t talk to him like that. And you can’t shout at him like that ever, ever again."

I frowned, still brimming with frustration. "But Zayn, he insults you... every single ti. How can I just sit there and let him tear us apart?"

Zayn sighed softly, brushing his thumb across my cheek. "I know. I feel it too, and it hurts. But listen, Evric, he’s still your father. Shouting, snapping back, it won’t change his heart. It’ll only make the wall between you even higher."

"No," Zayn shook his head. "Do not keep quiet, but be wise. Respect him, even when he doesn’t respect us. Let him talk, and let him be angry if he wants. Because one day, Evric... he will co around. It’s not by stubbornness, or by fighting. It’s by showing him over and over that what we share is love. Real love."

"What if he never accepts us?" My voice cracking. The fear I’d buried deep finally slipped out.

Zayn didn’t flinch. He smiled softly, his hand still cupping my cheek. "He will, trust . Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow—but one day. A father’s heart is stubborn, but it’s not made of stone."

I searched his eyes, wanting to believe, needing to believe. "And if you’re wrong?"

He shook his head gently. "Then we’ll still have each other. That’s what matters. All we have to do is be patient... and focus on us. On our love, our future, the life we’re building together. That’s stronger than his disapproval."

Zayn always had this way of calming the storm inside . I pulled him close, burying my face in his shoulder. "You make it sound so simple," I murmured.

Zayn always had this way of calming the storm inside . I pulled him close, burying my face in his shoulder. "You make it sound so simple," I murmured.

He chuckled softly against my ear. "Because it is simple. You love . I love you. Everything else, we’ll face it one step at a ti."

I held him tighter, whispering, "I don’t deserve you."

"Yes, you do," he replied firmly. "And we deserve each other. Don’t forget that."

After everything that happened, neither of us had the appetite to continue eating. The food sat untouched between us. Zayn sighed, breaking the silence.

"When we’re going back ho, I’ll stop by my restaurant and pack so food," he said gently.

I nodded. "Okay."

Just then, his phone buzzed. He checked it, and a faint smile tugged at his lips. "Babe, Dean just invited out tonight... am I allowed to go?"

I gave him a look. "Zayn, I’m not stopping you, but you have to know this..."

Before I could finish, he cut in, grinning. "I know, I know. I won’t co back ho too drunk. I won’t eat anything there. And I’ll co ho early. Just a quick drink, that’s all."

He leaned closer, teasing, "Unless... you want to follow ?"

I turned to him with a sigh. "You already know the answer. I’m not going with you."

Zayn chuckled softly, shaking his head. "You should try to make friends, you know."

"Not today," I muttered. "Father already ssed up my day."

"Okay," he said simply, respecting my mood.

Later, we left my office, stopped at his restaurant to grab so food, and went ho. Zayn served , sat with while I ate, and we talked for a while. Then he stood, stretched, and headed to the bedroom to change before leaving to et his friends.

After he left, I moved to the living room with my laptop and so files to distract myself. Barely thirty minutes had passed since Zayn left when the doorbell suddenly rang.

I frowned, surprised. He hadn’t ntioned expecting anyone. Slowly, I walked to the door and pulled it open.

Only to find Nicki standing there.

The first words that spilled out of my mouth were intense. "What are you doing here?"