The MC President's Forsaken Wife (Zara and Knox) novel Chapter 403

Chapter 198-2

+25 Points

“Yeah,” Knox wheezes softly, his eyes shining with quiet humor. “Guess… guess it takes two in the chest to knock the asshole out of me, huh?”

“There’s still a little bit left,” I say, wiping a tear from my cheek with the back of my hand. ” You’re a pretty irredeemable asshole.”

The heavy, metallic stench of the warehouse seems to soften as Knox turns his head slightly, his eyes tracing the broken lines of the rafters. His breathing is a fragile, shallow whisper now, but the desperate panic has completely vanished from his frame.

“Hey, Zara,” Knox rasps, his fingers pressing weakly against mine. “Do you… do you know when I actually noticed you? Like… really noticed you for the first time, back when I was still Mayhem’s best friend?”

My brow furrows slightly in surprise. I look down at him, brushing another lock of hair from his damp forehead.

“You didn’t notice me until years later, Knox. Back then, I was just Mayhem’s annoying kid sister tagging along.”

“That’s what I let everyone think,” Knox coughs out. “That’s what I pretended… because Mayhem would have buried me in the mountains if he thought I was looking at you. But… do you remember my twenty–third birthday?”

The memory flashes back in my mind, vivid and sudden. “Yeah. I remember.”

“Mayhem mentioned to you the week before that I’d never had a birthday cake in my entire life,” Knox whispers. “He brought me to your place, and Mayhem unlocked the front door and

walked me into the kitchen.”

I swallow hard, a lump rising in my throat as I listen.

“You were nineteen, standing by the counter in your kitchen, covered in flour up to your elbows, practically in tears, because that damn oven of yours had given out halfway through baking. It left the chocolate cake half–burnt on one side and raw dough on the other. You were so devastated, Zara. You thought you’d ruined my whole birthday surprise before it even

started.”

“It was a complete disaster. I was so pissed off at that stupid oven.”

“Mayhem took one look at you, grabbed three forks, and said we were eating it anyway, and we did. The three of us stood right around your kitchen counter, eating half–baked chocolate

“No. It was the best damn thing I ever tasted, Zara. Because nobody had ever tried to make me a cake before. Nobody.”

“Oh, God. I’d forgotten that part.”

“You were so soft, so fiercely caring… and I sat there in your house watching you, wanting someone like you so damn bad. But I knew I didn’t deserve it. I was just Mayhem’s wild, patched–in friend with a violent streak.”

I look down at him, my heart aching with the raw truth of the past, the memories washing over me with overwhelming clarity.

“I loved you, Knox,” I say, my voice breaking softly as I hold his gaze. “I really did.”

A fragile, deeply painful breath catches in Knox’s throat. A single tear escapes the corner of his eye, cutting a track through the grime on his cheek.

“I know you did,” Knox says, his eyes fixed on mine with devastating honesty. “I knew it, and G od, I wish I’d been worthy of it. I wish I’d been capable of returning it, instead of using that love to hurt you. Instead of throwing it back in your face because I was too broken to hold something that good.”

He swallows hard.

“I used that love when we finally got married years later,” Knox whispers, the quiet confession hanging heavy in the dim space between us. “And for years, I told myself that it was your fault that I wasn’t successful, but it was never you, Zara. It was always me.”

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