Time-Limited Love: A Contract Expired, Not Renewed novel Chapter 14

A restless frustration buzzed beneath his skin, impossible to name, let alone shake off.

These past few days, Zinnia had been acting… off. She hardly spoke anymore, her usual warmth replaced by a cool distance.

Was she really mad at him?

No, that couldn’t be it. Zinnia wasn’t the petty, grudge-holding type.

Landon kept repeating this to himself, though he couldn’t pinpoint the source of the sudden panic gnawing at his chest.

As the night wound down, someone at the table perked up with a mischievous grin. “Hey, why don’t we play a little game before we call it a night?”

“What kind of game?”

The guy reached for his phone and slapped it onto the table. “Simple. Everyone puts their phone here. The first guy whose wife calls to demand he comes home gets to leave first. If your phone doesn’t ring, you’re stuck here—no sneaking out early.”

Someone groaned in protest. “No way. My wife doesn’t give a damn how late I stay out. She’d probably be glad if I drank myself to death out here. I’m guaranteed to lose.”

“Come on, it’s hardly a contest. Landon always wins. Every time we’re out, Zinnia’s the first one to call and check on him,” another guy chimed in, grinning as he looked over at Landon. “Come on, man, put your phone in. This one’s in the bag for you.”

Landon’s expression was calm, almost bored. “What a stupid game,” he muttered, but he still reached into his pocket, dropped his phone onto the pile, and—perhaps remembering something—couldn’t help the faint, involuntary curve at the corner of his lips.

Chandler shot him an inscrutable look and smirked knowingly.

It didn’t take long before one of the phones started ringing on the table.

“There it is! Landon, go on, pick up!” someone called out.

His jaw tightened.

“It’s me… Hey, honey, I’m just wrapping up. I’ll be right there.”

One by one, the phones kept ringing. One by one, their owners took the calls, made their excuses, and left, until only Landon and Chandler remained, alongside a couple of single women who hadn’t joined the game.

Eventually, even the singles called it a night, leaving just the two men and the last untouched phone sitting on the table.

Chandler, deep in his own marital limbo, hadn’t participated.

Landon’s phone sat alone on the table, its screen dark and silent, almost as if mocking his isolation.

Expressionless, Landon reached for his phone, snatched it up, and gave a short, forced laugh—trying, and failing, to salvage a shred of dignity.