The MC President's Forsaken Wife (Zara and Knox) novel Chapter 149

Chapter 84-2

My grip tightens on Loske’s wrist until my knuckles turn pure white.

“I’m not denying something out of a fear of hurting Zara,” Locke replies, his voice dropping into a low, dangerous register that sends a shiver down my spine. “I am actively, forcefully refusing to hurt her. She is my choice.”

Willow stares at him for a long, agonizing moment, watching the impenetrable wall of his devotion remain completely solid. Slowly, something vital inside her expression folds inward, extinguishing the bright, hopeful light behind her eyes, leaving behind a cold, hollow shell.

“All right,” she whispers quietly.

My father lets out a massive, audible exhale of relief, his shoulders dropping… but he celebrates far too

soon.

Willow smoothly pushes her chair back and stands up, smoothing down the front of her soft skirt with methodical precision. “I completely understand now.”

Dad rises immediately from his seat, moving to step around the table. “Good. Thank God, Willow -”

“No,” she says, holding up a delicate, pale hand to stop him in his tracks.

Dad freezes. “What?”

“I understand what you’re really saying to me,” she clarifies, her voice devoid of any lingering panic, settled into a terrifying, flat calm. Her slender fingers reach up, closing tightly around the small, polished stone pendant hanging at her throat. “You want me to stay here and be your daughter, but only on the condition that I reshape myself into someone that you can control.”

“That’s not even vaguely what I said to you!” Dad growls.

“It’s what you mean.”

“No, Willow, listen to me.” Dad’s rough voice drops into a quiet, raspy register I’ve rarely heard him use. I’m not asking you to change who you are at your core. I swear to you that I’m not. I’m just asking you that you don’t interfere in Zara and Locke’s life.”

“But what if making you that promise means ignoring what I’m being shown by a higher power?”

“Then you fucking ignore it!” Dad almost shouts. “Jesus fuck, is this conversation real?”

The raw, crude bluntness of the words shock everyone in the room into absolute silence. Dad looks profoundly shocked the exact millisecond the words leave his mouth, clearly realizing he’s destroyed whatever fragile bridge he was trying to build.

“There it is ” Willow gives a tiny, broken laugh that sounds more like a sob. “That’s the choice you’re forcing on me You’re telling me that your reality is the only one allowed in the room.”

Dad sighs, the sheer, exhausting effort of trying to manage her unspooling mental state taking a heavy toll on him “Willow, you can’t go through life attempting to build a reality around mystical signs that completely override another human being’s consent”

Chapter 84-2

Locke glances over at my father, à flicker of genuine surprise passing over his face. I stare at Dad myself. That’s elevated, psychological language that my father would never normally use. He’s a man of blunt actions, brutal declarations, and sheer force. The fact that he used those specific words means that he’s been thinking about this, trying to find à way to deal with Willow’s delusion without breaking her entirely.

“You think I would force Locke into anything?” Willow’s mouth twitches, a look of profound betrayal washing over her features. “You think I’m some kind of predator? That I’m dangerous to have around?”

No,” Dad says. “I think you’re hurt.”

“I am not hurt!” she snaps, her sweet demeanor completely shattering.

“You are right now,” Dad replies.

“I would never try to take Locke from her by force,” Willow says. “That isn’t how destiny works. You don’t have to steal what already belongs to you.”

“Then how the hell do you think this works?” I demand, unable to sit silently on the sidelines any longer.

Willow turns her tear-streaked face toward me, that suffocating, gentle sadness returning to her eyes. ” When you finally encounter the soul that was forged for yours, everything in the physical world that isn’t aligned just falls away on its own.”

A wave of cold revulsion turns my stomach. “Meaning me,” I say flatly. “You’re sitting there waiting for me to fall away.”

“No,” she denies softly.

“Yes, you are.”

She shakes her head, looking at me with genuine disappointment. “You’re taking something spiritual and making it ugly and petty.”

“I’m asking you to explain what you mean,” I say. “Because it sounds to me like you’re hoping hard that I drop dead.”

“I mean that your path will eventually shift,” she explains, her tone so soft and gentle it feels like she’s apologizing for bad weather. “And Locke’s path will lead straight to me. Away from you, the false distraction, and to his true soulmate. Me.”

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