“Landon, you don’t have that obligation.”
“How could I not? We’re—”
The word “married” hovered at the edge of Landon’s lips but caught in his throat, refusing to come out.
He couldn’t bring himself to say it.
Married?
If he’d truly understood what marriage meant back then, he never would have left her behind so decisively, forcing her to face that brush with death all alone.
Now, he didn’t have the right to even utter the word.
He could already imagine the look Zinnia would give him—the quiet, bitter irony in her eyes—if he dared.
There was a time when she’d looked at him with hope.
He remembered the night she woke trembling from a nightmare, asking why he hadn’t saved her.
She’d asked him, “Aren’t I your wife? Why didn’t you save me?”
In the darkness where her nightmare swallowed her whole, she must have lost all faith in him.
That’s why, after skirting the edge of death and coming back, she never mentioned it to him. Not a single word.
Zinnia watched as the tension played out on his face, his breath quickening, clearly struggling to keep his emotions in check.
She finally set down her spoon and looked him squarely in the eyes, her expression serious. “Let’s have an honest talk, shall we?”
Landon shook his head instinctively, wanting to refuse, but wilted beneath the gravity of her gaze. Shoulders slumped, he sank into the chair beside her.

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