He could feel, with painful clarity, how indifferent Zinnia was toward him.
If it weren’t for their agreement to coexist peacefully according to the contract, she probably wouldn’t even bother to utter a single word to him.
They were almost at the hospital when Zinnia finally spoke again.
“Just drop me off at the entrance.”
“Alright.”
Landon’s reply was low, his expression unreadable in the deep shadows of his eyes.
He pulled the car gently to the curb, and Zinnia stepped out, reaching for the door.
“Zinnia.”
Just as she was about to close the door, Landon’s voice rang out, stopping her.
She paused, glancing back at him, a silent question in her gaze.
It struck her—this was the first time in ages she’d heard Landon call her “Zinnia” so clearly, especially now, when she no longer expected anything from him.
How ironic, really. People always said that when you finally get what you’ve longed for, after the longing is gone, it doesn’t feel like much at all.
That was exactly how she felt now.
Hearing Landon call her name so intimately, getting the “special treatment” she once yearned for—none of it brought back the surprise or joy she’d imagined.
“Is there something else?”
Her voice was calm, eyes steady as she looked at him.
Landon pressed his lips together, then said, “We’re having dinner at the old house tonight. Dad and Lacey are back. You… you’ll be free this evening, right?”
Zinnia hesitated for a moment.
A family dinner. Inevitable, really.


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