The MC President's Forsaken Wife (Zara and Knox) novel Chapter 381

Chapter 187-1

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e brass bell attached to the door of The Daily Grind tinkles softly as I step inside, instantly wrapping me in the rich, comforting aromas of freshly ground espresso, steamed milk, and vanilla.

The café is charmingly rustic, with exposed brick walls, low wooden-beamed ceilings, and mismatching vintage armchairs clustered around a crackling stone hearth in the corner. It’s quiet this afternoon, with only a couple of people scattered at tables, lost in their books or laptops.

I scan the room, and my eyes land on Willow almost immediately.

She’s sitting at a small, round table tucked into a sunny alcove near the side exit. A tea pot is in the middle of the table, and a steaming mug rests between her hands. She’s wearing a soft, oversized

pink knit sweater, her long hair braided loosely over one shoulder.

She looks delicate, almost ethereal against the warm wood of the café, but there’s a quiet, settled

stillness to her posture today.

As if sensing my presence, Willow turns her head. Her dark eyes meet mine, and a radiant, genuine

smile breaks across her face.

“Zara,” she breathes, pushing back her chair and standing up.

I walk over, unbuttoning my gray wool coat as I approach. “Hi Willow.”

“I’m so glad you came,” Willow says, her voice thick with emotion. Her eyes trail over my features.” Look at you. Zara… you look incredible. You look so healthy.”

“I feel incredible, Willow,” I say, sitting down in the wooden chair opposite hers as I drape my coat

over the back. “Really, truly good.”

Willow sits down, her hands wrapping back around her warm tea mug. She gazes at me with an

intensity that is entirely her own, that quiet, deeply intuitive perception that seems to see straight

through skin and bone.

For a long moment, she doesn’t say anything. She just watches me, her eyes scanning my face, my shoulders, and then dropping down toward the wooden table.

Her breath catches softly in her throat.

I freeze as Willow’s eyes widen, filled with a sudden, overwhelming luminosity. Her hand reaches across the small table, her fingers trembling gently as she rests her warm palm over the top of my

hand.

“Willow?” I say. “What is it?”

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Chapter 187-1

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Tears spring instantly to Willow’s eyes. Not tears of sadness, but a sudden, brilliant wellspring of

pure joy. A soft, breathless laugh escapes her lips.

Your aura, Willow whispers, her voice trembling with wonder. “Zara… your energy is completely different. It’s golden. There’s a second spark. A tiny, fierce, brilliant second spark wrapped right inside yours.”

My heart skips a massive beat.

I stare at her, my lips parting in total shock. I haven’t said a word. I haven’t touched my stomach I’m wearing a loose knit sweater. There is no physical way she could know.

“Willow…”

“You’re pregnant,” Willow says softly. It isn’t a guess; it isn’t a question. It is an absolute, bone-deep certainty. “Oh, Zara… you’re carrying a baby.”

A thick wave of emotion washes over my chest, so sudden and profound it brings hot tears to my eyes. I look down at our joined hands, then back up into my sister’s beaming face.

“Eleven weeks,” I say. “Eleven weeks yesterday.”

Willow lets out a wet, joyous laugh, squeezing my fingers with both of her hands.

“Eleven weeks. So a July birth. A golden summer baby… a little life born out of so much love. Oh,

I can feel it. It’s so strong. The shadow that used to hang over your energy… the sickness, the

pain… it’s completely gone.”

“I’m in remission from the cancer.”

“Thank the goddess. You’re holding a miracle.”

“We haven’t told anyone yet. Only the doctors, and Jade figured it out on New Year’s Eve. We’re waiting until twelve weeks to tell the rest of the club and family. But hearing you say that… feeling

how happy you are…”

“I am so, so happy, Zara. You and Locke… you both deserve this peace. You deserve this joy after everything you’ve endured. Locke loves you with everything he has. I can see his strength wrapped all around you like a shield.”

Hearing Willow speak Locke’s name with such pure, unselfish warmth – without a single trace of her former fixations – confirms everything l’hoped for. She has truly moved on, she’s in a better place mentally, she’s genuinely thrilled for the life Locke and I are building together.

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