The Man She Left, The Love She Found

Zara wasn’t heartbroken over the red wine that had soaked her dress, nor was she bothered by the humiliation she’d endured earlier that night.

Honestly, she could care less about any of it.

What stung—what really stung—was the realization that people could trample all over the last bits of sincerity you had, like it meant absolutely nothing.

The more she thought about it, the harder it became to breathe.

Watching that Maserati speed away had felt like watching her dignity vanish into the night. She stood beneath the dim glow of the streetlights, her shadow stretching long on the cracked sidewalk.

Alone. Disheveled. Feeling just as pathetic as she looked.

By the time she finally made it home, Landon was nowhere to be found.

No text. No call. Nothing.

The silence was deafening—until her phone buzzed, breaking the stillness.

Ryan’s voice came through the line, casual but a little hesitant. "Hey, Zara, could you pick up Landon? He’s completely smashed and can’t drive."

Zara let out a slow breath, pressing her fingers against her temple.

She was exhausted.

But she swallowed the fatigue, her voice quiet as she answered, "Mm."

...

Under the night sky, Landon stood by the car, his shirt unbuttoned, showing just enough of his toned chest to make it look effortless.

He leaned lazily against the vehicle, his lips curved into a drunken smirk, the picture of careless arrogance.

His smile was, as always, breathtaking—but the name he slurred wasn’t hers. "Cassidy… tell me, what did I do wrong? Why did you leave me without a word?"

The dim streetlights flickered above, casting a hazy glow over him. Landon’s vision was blurred from the alcohol, and in his drunken state, he mistook Zara for Cassidy.

Something inside her cracked, but she kept her voice even. "I’ll take you home."

Ryan shifted uncomfortably beside them, rubbing the back of his neck. "Thanks, Zara. Landon's just drunk. Don’t take it seriously."

But that was the thing, wasn’t it?

Drunk words were often sober thoughts. And Landon, wrapped up in his stupor, clung to Zara like she was Cassidy, whispering another woman’s name over and over again.

Ryan’s explanation didn’t mean a damn thing. They all knew the truth. Cassidy was back, and to Landon, she was the only thing that mattered.

Zara? She was just… there.

She helped him into the cab, his body slumping against the seat. He looked so lost, curled up in the back, his voice hoarse as he mumbled Cassidy’s name in his sleep.

Zara studied his face, feeling something deep inside her twist. He was still so damn handsome. Still, the man who had once made her heart race. But none of that mattered anymore.

She exhaled softly.

Under her breath, Zara whispered, "In half a month, I’ll be gone."

She paused, the words sinking in. "Landon, don’t blame me for not waiting for you. I waited seven years for you to come back to me, but you never did."

She wasn’t just saying it to him. She was saying it to herself. Because deep down, she had always known what kind of man Landon was.

And she had always known how this would end.

By the time they reached the Riverside Estate, it was past midnight. Landon stumbled inside, collapsing onto the bed in an instant, lost in a heavy, drunken sleep.

Zara stood there for a long moment, just watching him.

She was tired—bone-deep exhausted.

But she turned toward the kitchen, her hands moving on autopilot as she prepared to make hangover soup.

Then, she stopped.

The thought of doing something kind for him felt hollow.

Pointless.

She just stood there, hands hovering over the ingredients, staring at nothing.

That night, they slept in the same bed. But the space between them felt like an ocean.

...

The next morning, Zara woke up late—noon, to be exact.

Landon was still in bed, his arms wrapped around her waist, his breath warm against her ear as he chuckled softly.

"You were so obedient last night," he teased, his voice groggy. "You even came to pick me up. Did you secretly curse me out in your head?"

The way he said it—like it was all just some joke—made something in her chest tighten.

It felt so damn familiar. Like seven years ago.

Back then, when they were in that perfect little honeymoon phase, Landon would go out drinking, never wasted, just tipsy enough to make it fun.

She used to pout, crossing her arms. "If you keep this up, I won’t let you come home anymore."

"Alright," he’d laugh, always giving in to her, like he had no choice.

Back then, they weren’t even officially together. But it didn’t matter. He treated her like she was the most precious thing in the world.

People respected Zara then. They had to. Everyone knew she was Landon’s pearl—the one thing he wouldn’t let anyone touch.

But now… she trembled, wishing she had never overheard that conversation between him and Cassidy.

Unfortunately, she had.

After a beat of silence, Landon slipped out of bed, as if trying to smooth things over. He disappeared into the kitchen and returned a moment later with a cup of warm milk, his smile gentle.

"Drink this," he said, his voice sincere. "It’s good for you."

If it had been any other time, she would’ve taken the milk without hesitation, like she always had.

But today was different.

She stared at the cup in his hands, the warmth of it feeling like a cruel joke.

Was it really just milk?

Or was it something else?

Something meant to make her forget?

To soften her resolve?

Her lips pressed into a thin line, doubt and anger swirling inside her.

She opened her mouth to refuse, but before she could, Landon gently pressed the cup to her lips, his voice coaxing. "Drink it, okay? Thank you, baby."

His eyes were so damn sincere. But Zara wasn’t sure if she could trust him anymore.