Time-Limited Love: A Contract Expired, Not Renewed novel Chapter 64

Landon stepped aside, clutching his phone tightly.

He lowered his voice, trying to soothe Noelle on the other end, who was falling apart.

“Isn’t there a housekeeper at home? Find someone to stay with you. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“No! I don’t want a stranger with me—I want you, Landon!”

Crash—

A shattering sound came through the phone, followed by Noelle’s shrill scream.

“Landon, maybe it’s better if I just die. Let me go. I don’t want to be a burden anymore.”

Her voice, once sharp with panic, faded into a dull, empty whisper.

Landon’s expression changed instantly. “Noelle, don’t do anything stupid. I’m on my way. Just wait for me, okay?”

He turned to Zinnia. “Noelle’s having another depressive episode—”

But before he could finish, he realized the space beside him was empty.

Only his smoky gray overcoat, the one he’d draped over Zinnia’s shoulders moments before, hung on a rack near the door—abandoned, as if mocking him.

A sudden wave of helpless anxiety crashed over him.

He glanced around and spotted Zinnia climbing into a taxi idling at the curb.

Landon couldn’t quite name what he felt just then.

A dull, unfamiliar ache bloomed in his chest, leaving him dazed for a split second.

“Landon!!”

Noelle’s sobs blared through the phone, snapping him back to reality.

A flicker of irritation and impatience crossed his features.

Rubbing his brow, he took a steadying breath and said, voice low and gruff, “I’m coming.”

The taxi had barely pulled away from the French restaurant when Zinnia’s phone rang.

Landon’s name lit up the screen.

She hesitated, then answered, “Hello?”

Silence.

She could hear him breathing on the other end, heavy and ragged, as if he was struggling to hold back a surge of anger.

The pause dragged on, until finally Landon’s hoarse voice broke through—

Zinnia blinked.

Was he seriously picking a fight right now?

She was pushing him toward another woman?

As if her disapproval would have stopped him from going.

Wouldn’t he just accuse her of being selfish, unreasonable, lacking empathy if she’d made a scene?

The more she thought about it, the more irritated she became—until, absurdly, she found herself laughing.

“Mr. Ford, don’t be ridiculous.”

…

At some point, rain had begun to fall from the heavy, dark sky.

The windshield wipers on his Rolls-Royce Cullinan swept frantically back and forth.

Zinnia’s “Mr. Ford, don’t be ridiculous” caught Landon completely off guard.

He heard the sarcasm in her words, sharp and unmistakable.