Time-Limited Love: A Contract Expired, Not Renewed novel Chapter 19

Even when he mentioned that he wasn’t feeling well after drinking, Zinnia didn’t so much as bat an eyelash.

She didn’t move a muscle, not even to make him a simple cup of honey water.

In the end, he swallowed his anxiety, got the honey from the fridge, and fixed himself a drink.

The fact that Zinnia never once asked if he had a headache or if his stomach was upset only made that uneasy feeling inside him grow heavier.

Almost out of stubbornness, he brought up the game they played earlier tonight in the private room.

“After drinks with Chandler and the guys, they came up with this game,” he began, taking a sip of water, his tone deliberately casual, as if the memory hardly mattered at all.

He wanted to sound offhand, like he was just making small talk.

Zinnia wasn’t really interested in hearing about it, but out of politeness, she stayed where she was, watching him, waiting for him to finish.

Landon could feel her gaze—steady and unreadable—and for some reason, it made him uneasy.

He hid behind another sip, cleared his throat, and continued, “So, the game was that everyone had to put their phones on the table and see whose wife would call first to remind them to come home.”

As he spoke, his eyes were fixed on Zinnia.

She froze.

“They all said I’d win. Every time before, I’ve always been the first one to get a call. But tonight, I waited until the very end, and your call never came.”

At first, Landon’s tone was light, just recounting a story, nothing more. But by the end, something in his voice shifted, and Zinnia heard a hint of wounded accusation.

She hesitated, lips pressed together, then replied quietly, “Sorry I made you lose the game.”

Landon was caught off guard.

He said nothing at first, just stared at her with those calm, steady eyes—eyes that, this time, seemed to search her face for something she wasn’t offering.

From the moment he’d walked in, Zinnia had worn the same detached, unbothered expression. It unsettled him. The tightness in his chest grew heavier, like a stone pressing down, making it hard to breathe.

He parted his lips, his voice coming out rough and low. “Can we talk?”

Talk?

Zinnia’s eyes remained calm, but now there was a flicker of confusion.

“Sure. What do you want to talk about?”

Landon motioned for her to sit, then took a seat across from her on the couch. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, fingers laced together, looking as though he was struggling to find the right words.

Zinnia didn’t rush him. She just sat quietly, waiting for him to begin.