The MC President's Forsaken Wife (Zara and Knox) novel Chapter 518

Chapter 254-2

He’s trying. In his own rough, deeply uncomfortable way, he’s trying to offer a compromise,

He’s offering to sit in that bed and endure the awkwardness every single morning if it means

fulfilling whatever duty he thinks he owes me.

I look at the giant man sitting in that small hospital bed, wrapped in bandages, covered in scars

looking so utterly lost in his own skin.

I think about what tomorrow’s going to look like:

I’ll walk in.

He’ll sit up.

He’ll try so hard to look at me like he loves me, and I’ll spend an hour watching him squirm under

the weight of his own failure.

I’ll cry, he’ll apologize, and we’ll construct a slow, agonizing prison out of pure obligation.

It isn’t helping him. It’s tormenting him. And it’s destroying what’s left of my heart.

I force a tiny smile onto my lips. I shake my head slowly.

“No, Locke,” I say. “I’m not coming tomo

Locke blinks, taken aback. “No? Why? Did I… did I say something wrong?”

“No, you didn’t do anything wrong,” I say, my voice trembling, though I fight with everything in me to

keep the tears from falling. “You’re being as honest as you can be. But… coming here right now, sitting in this room forcing you to try and remember me… it’s too soon. It’s not doing you any good.

You need to heal your body before you try to fix your head.”

“Zara –”

“I’m moving out of the penthouse.” I drop the words gently into the quiet room, though each one feels like a stone pulling me under. “I’ll pack up my things today.”

Silence falls over Room 412, sudden, heavy, and absolute.

Locke doesn’t move. He doesn’t yell, he doesn’t protest, and he doesn’t reach for me.

He looks down at his hands, his broad shoulders rising and falling on a slow, heavy exhale.

He knows why I’m doing it. He knows that walking into that penthouse – a place built entirely around our shared memories – is a ghost town for me, and an impossible burden for him.

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When he looks back up, those wolf gray eyes are solemn, shadowed, and filled with a quiet,

devastating acceptance.

“Yeah,” Locke says quietly, his voice rough and low. “That’s… that’s probably best.”

The words cut through me, final and sharp.

25

He isn’t being cruel; he genuinely believes it’s the right choice. He genuinely thinks freeing both of

us from the fiction of a life he can’t remember is the kindest thing he can do.

“Zara…” he adds softly, his jaw working as he struggles to find the right words. “What about what about you? Cobra told me… he said you’re supposed to take it easy. You… you can’t be stressed out when you’re pregnant. Especially not after… after everything with your body. It isn’t good for

the kid.”

A single, hot tear finally escapes my eye, trailing down my cheek.

“I’ll be okay,” I lie softly, my throat so tight I can barely push the words out. “I’ll have my father and the guys looking out for me. I’m safe, Locke.”

“And… and if something happens with the baby,” he adds, with a sudden, desperate intensity that almost breaks me right then and there. “If you’ve got to go to the doctor, or… or if something’s wrong… you have them call me. I don’t care if I’m in this bed. You tell me.”

“I will,” I promise, my voice cracking on the second word. “I promise.”

Locke nods slowly, his gaze lingering on my face like he’s trying to memorize the features he can’t remember loving, completely tortured by the fact that he’s letting his woman and unborn child

walk out that door. “Okay. Okay.”

“Get some rest, Locke,” I say.

I give him one last, lingering look.

I memorize him as he is right now, broken and lost, so I won’t hate the silence that’s waiting for me.

Then, I turn around and pull open the blue curtain, then the door.

Dad’s still standing there, leaning against the wall, his heavy arms folded over his chest. The

second he sees my face, his posture changes. He straightens up, his dark eyes searching mine

I can’t answer him. If I open my mouth to explain, if I try to tell him that Locke agreed it’s best I

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