The MC President's Forsaken Wife (Zara and Knox) novel Chapter 520

Chapter 255-2

Now, my palm rests against cold, lifeless plaster. The air in the entryway is freezing.

I pull my hand back, clutching my coat tighter around myself as the silence in the apartment

rushes back in.

The memory hurts with a fresh, jagged edge.

He isn’t standing between me and the door anymore. He isn’t testing my locks, he isn’t holding me against his chest until my breathing slows down, and he isn’t taking me against

the wall to mark me as his.

He’s lying in a sterile hospital room miles away, entirely detached from everything we were, completely isolated from our shared history.

I take a slow, shaky breath, letting the reality of it settle deep into my ribs:

I’m alone with our memories. I alone carry them, call on them, cherish them.

I’m alone.

Staying at the penthouse was impossible. Every hallway was a ghost, every room a memorial to a future he agreed to let go because he couldn’t remember wanting it.

But this studio? This studio is mine. It belongs strictly to me.

There are no hand–carved nursery cradles here. There are no leather cuts hanging over the

chairs.

Moving back into this box strips away the illusion, but it gives me a safe space away from ghosts where I don’t have to watch him squirm under the weight of his own guilt.

“Come on, Xena,” I whisper softly, my voice raspy. “Let’s unpack.”

The dog stands up immediately, her tail giving a tentative wag as she follows me.

I unbutton my heavy winter coat and drape it over the single chair by the laminate counter. I unbuckle my suitcase, flipping it open on the floor to unpack my clothes. I fold my clothes and stuff them in the dresser, and take my washbag into the tiny bathroom.

The tub, sits squeezed between the pedestal sink and the wall. It’s narrow, stained nea drain, and cold.

Chapter 255-2

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I turn the brass taps, letting the hot water thunder against the porcelain until steam begins to fog the small mirror above the sink. I shed my clothes slowly, wincing at the reflection of my pale skin, my dark under–eye circles, and the undeniable, firm curve of my belly.

I step into the hot water and sink down into the tub, letting the heat soak into my aching muscles and stiff joints. The steam fills the small room, smelling faintly of old pipes and

lavender soap.

I close my eyes, leaning my head back against the hard rim of the porcelain… and the water instantly brings him back.

Locke stepping into the tiny bathroom, his massive frame completely filling the space between the sink and the door. Kicking off his boots and clothes, and climbing into the tub

with me.

Pulling me back against his broad, solid chest, his large, rough hand trailing down my wet stomach, moving down between my thighs with a slow, deliberate, terrifyingly possessive

devotion.

I remember the way his fingers worked between my legs, slick and heavy, driving me over the edge right there in the water while his eyes burned dark through the steam and his mouth

claimed mine.

“You’re mine, Zara,” he had growled against my ear, his thumb wiping away the water on my

cheek. “All mine.”

I open my eyes, staring up at the peeling paint on the bathroom ceiling. The water around me is warm, but my skin feels cold.

The fingers that knew every secret boundary of my body are currently resting on a white hospital sheet, belonging to a man who apologized for feeling uncomfortable when I to

his face.

I get out of the tub, wrapping a thick towel around myself, and dry off quickly. I dress in a pa of clean, fleece–lined sweatpants and an oversized knit sweater, rolling the sleeves up past

my wrists.

I walk back out into the main room. Xena nudges her snout against my knee, bringing me

back to the present.

you,

Here, the cotton quilt is faded from a dozen washes, slightly frayed at the edges. But it’s real. It doesn’t ask anything of me. It doesn’t carry the expectation of a life that got shattered. Once the pillows are set up, I turn off the overhead light and climb onto the narrow mattress, pulling the heavy quilt up over my legs.

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