[BL] CRAVING HIM: Addicted to His Voice-Chapter 237: Caught in My Arms
~Zayn’s POV~
It had been less than twenty-four hours since I walked out the door, and the silence from the house was deafening. Evric hadn’t called or texted. Not a single desperate, pleading message. This worried me more than if he’d been flooding my phone. I knew how fragile he was under real stress, and the thought of him collapsing alone under the weight of his guilt was a tight, cold knot in my chest.
I broke first. My hand trembled slightly as I picked up my phone and dialed one of the maids’ numbers.
"Hello," she answered softly.
"Is Evric alright?" I asked, trying to sound casual, not like a wreck man who had just walked out of his life.
Her voice sounded hesitant on the other end. "Sir, he hasn’t come downstairs since you left yesterday morning. He’s been in the bedroom the whole time."
"Did you check on him? Did you bring him any food?" I asked quickly, my pulse beginning to race.
"Yes, sir. I brought him some food earlier, but he hasn’t touched it. We’re all a bit worried about him, sir."
My stomach twisted with worry, but then she continued, her voice soft and laced with concern. "Sir, forgive me for saying this, but it’s been like this for a while. Even before you returned, he would ask us to set the table, then suddenly stand up and go back upstairs without eating. He hasn’t had a proper meal in weeks."
The revelation hit me like a punch. Even before he confessed, he had already been falling apart under the pressure. The deep, instinctive sense of responsibility I felt for him instantly overpowered the ache of his betrayal.
"Listen to me carefully," I said, my tone firm and controlled. "Don’t tell him I called, he must not know I checked on him. Prepare another light meal and take it up to him now. If he still refuses to eat by nightfall, call me immediately. Understood?"
The maid quickly agreed, and I ended the call. I had created the distance I needed to heal, yet part of me remained hopelessly tied to the broken man I’d left behind. I’d barely begun to find my own peace, and already, I was slipping back into worrying about him.
I knew Evric would be angry with me, for suddenly walking away over something he wasn’t even sure he’d done, something that was clearly a trap set by a manipulative enemy.
But I had my reasons. I needed to know whether I was walking away from a man who had made a catastrophic mistake. Only distance and time would tell, and only getting rid of Nicki would make Evric safe enough for me to come back, if I chose to.
After considering everything, my decision solidified. I didn’t inform any of my friends about the situation. I didn’t want to explain Evric and Nicki, or the video, or the blackmail. They would end up finding out eventually anyway, but for now, the silence was protective.
I stood up from the sofa, threw on a fresh shirt and jeans, and went to work.
That was all I did for the first two weeks of my self-imposed exile. I buried myself in work at my restaurant, the familiar, relentless pace of the kitchen and the constant flow of numbers were the only things that numbed the emotional wreckage. My second restaurant, my personal passion project, was almost finished, and managing its construction and design became my whole world.
Work, home, sleep. Repeat.
Evric upheld the distance, too. He never called, never texted, and never showed up at my door.
The good news, which Evans told me, was that all of Evric’s projects were back on track. Even the most prestigious position, the one that had briefly suspended him, had reinstated him. His career, at least for now, was stable again.
But his health was another story.
After two weeks, I couldn’t take the uncertainty anymore. I finally gave in and called Mr Karl.
Karl’s voice was weighted with concern. "He’s showing up to work, Zayn. Every day. He’s more focused than ever, actually, working long hours, handling everything himself. But... he’s not eating. At all. Maybe just a cup of coffee all day."
My breath caught. "What? No—that’s impossible. What is he doing to himself?"
"We’ve all tried, Zayn. Evans, me—everyone’s begged him to eat, but he won’t. He takes a single bite of toast and says he’s full. He’s lost a lot of weight, and lately..." Karl hesitated, lowering his voice. "He’s been clutching his stomach at work sometimes, like he’s in pain. It hits him suddenly, but he keeps pretending it’s nothing and goes right back to work."
The guilt was a physical ache in my chest. He was punishing himself, yet still forcing his way through work like nothing was wrong.
"Has he said anything about me?" I asked softly, my voice barely holding steady.
Karl hesitated. "When anyone suggests calling you, he always says we shouldn’t. He says you don’t care about him and that he deserves this."
I hung up the phone, collapsing onto my bed, the pain of his isolation crushing me. He was dying of guilt and heartbreak, convinced I had abandoned him forever, and my own need for self-preservation had become his sentence.
I only asked for three months, Evric. Why do you have to be so stubborn and still make me worry? But it was painfully clear that he wouldn’t last three months if I kept this silence. I had to shift my focus from our personal crisis back to the real threat. I needed to protect him, even if I couldn’t be with him.
The next day, I woke up. I went straight to the kitchen and prepared a light, familiar lunch, chicken broth, clear and nourishing, and some plain rice. It was the easiest meal for him to digest, the one he always ate when he was stressed.
I drove straight to Draevens’ building.
"The moment I reached the entrance, I called Karl. ’I brought some food for Evric,’ I said quietly. ’I need you to take it inside his office right away. Tell him it’s from me.’"
I hoped the personal touch, the fact that I had cooked it myself, would break through his delusion that I didn’t care.
Karl met me at the entrance of Evric’s office, his face etched with relief and worry. He took the insulated container from me and went inside, while I waited by the stairwell door, watching through the glass, desperate to see the result of my gamble.
I saw Karl set the food down and gesture toward the door. Then, Evric’s reaction hit me like an electric shock.
He started shaking immediately. It wasn’t a tremble; it was a visible, violent shudder that started in his shoulders and traveled through his entire frame.
"No!" Evric’s voice was high-pitched, ragged, and terrified, a stark, raw sound that was completely unlike the composed Evric I knew. "Zayn did not bring that! It’s a trap! It’s another trap from Nicki!"
Karl tried to reassure him, gesturing with open hands that the food was safe, but Evric wasn’t listening. His gaze darted between the tray and the window, eyes wide and unfocused, completely consumed by his trauma. He was having a panic attack, and that simple gesture, a meal sent with care, had triggered a full-blown relapse into the fear Nicki had burned into him.
Evric shoved his chair back, one hand clutching his stomach in pain. "Why won’t he just leave me alone? Nicki, please, leave me alone!" he whispered hysterically before dropping his head onto the wide mahogany desk. His body folded in on itself, trembling uncontrollably.
I didn’t hesitate. My instinct to protect him, my love for him, overpowered everything. I burst through the door and rushed to his side.
"Evric!" I called out, my voice cutting through the panic, sharp and urgent.
At the sound of that single, familiar call, Evric’s head snapped up. He saw me, and the affliction in his eyes was instantly replaced by an overwhelming, desperate relief.
He scrambled to his feet, crying out my name, and stumbled across the floor. He didn’t just hug me; he slammed into my chest, and as his arms wrapped around my neck, his weight went slack.
"Zayn... I’m not okay," he whispered, his voice faint and trembling. His eyes fluttered shut, and his body began to collapse in my arms.
I caught him just in time, pulling him close as his weight went completely slack. Panic shot through me at how fragile and light he felt.
"Evric! Evric!" I shouted, shaking him gently, desperate to bring him back.







