The Man She Left, The Love She Found

Landon turned and walked out without a second glance.

The cup of warm milk sat in Zara’s hand, its sweetness long gone, replaced by a bitter aftertaste that mirrored the tears she hadn’t been able to shed.

With one last, shaky breath, she drained the cup to the last drop.

A sharp pain knifed through her abdomen, and then—blood.

Zara knew. She didn’t need a doctor to confirm it. She was losing the baby.

Panic seized her chest, but the world around her blurred, dissolving into darkness.

The only thing she could do was close her eyes, the weight of despair pressing down on her like an unbearable force.

...

When Zara woke, daylight had already filled the room.

But the sterile scent of antiseptic and bleach made her stomach turn. The cold air from the hospital vent made her shiver, her body weak, and her throat raw.

Through the window, she spotted a Rolls-Royce parked outside.

'He’s here?'

For the briefest moment, hope flickered inside her. But then—

“You know, Cassidy’s really lucky. She just caught a cold, and her fiancé's acting like it’s the end of the world.”

“Right? I heard he is Landon Winston from the Winston family. They say he’s a playboy, but who would’ve thought he could be so devoted?”

The engagement ring on her finger slipped, tumbling to the floor with a soft metallic clink.

Zara didn’t even look at it.

Her mind was a whirlwind of static. "Landon… tell me, who are you really loyal to? Do you think that little side character won’t be upset? And using nourishment to supplement the body? You actually came up with that?"

Her eyes were swollen, her face raw from crying. Just as she thought she might drown in her misery, the door creaked open.

The nurse stepped in, and behind her was Cassidy Martin.

Their eyes met. Zara could read the message clear as day in Cassidy’s gaze.

Provocation. Amusement. Triumph.

Cassidy didn’t even need to say a word.

Her lips moved silently, taunting Zara: 'Look at you. In the end, you lost to me.'

And Landon?

His eyes never strayed from Cassidy.

Zara coughed, her chest tight, then slowly closed her eyes. As if shutting them could somehow make the disgrace disappear.

...

On the drive back home, Zara saw something that made her freeze.

Landon—her fiancé—who had never once set foot in a kitchen, was now in there, cooking.

“Zara, Cassidy’s going to stay here for a few days. You know that, right?” he asked.

She didn’t respond.

Her body felt like lead.

Her heart? Even heavier.

Exhausted and completely drained, she muttered without thinking, “Do whatever you want.”

From the kitchen, Cassidy’s voice rang out, dripping with a smirk. “Forget it. Since I’m here, I’ll let you try my cooking today. I made dumplings for you. What do you think?”

Zara didn’t answer. She was too tired. Too tired of all of it.

Her thoughts drifted to Julian. She didn’t even know where he was, but for some reason, she wanted to hear his voice.

Just to ground herself. Just to remind herself that there was still something beyond this nightmare.

Landon stepped out of the kitchen, dusting flour from his hands.

His voice was soft, coaxing. "Don’t be mad at me, okay? After a while, I’ll take you on a trip. Just don’t stay angry."

His eyes held that familiar tenderness—the same warmth that had once made her melt.

But now? Now it just felt empty.

To him, this was a cycle. He played, he strayed, and when he was done, he always came back to her. Because he liked her. Didn’t he?

Zara stayed silent.

Before she could even process her thoughts, Cassidy’s voice rang out again, laced with mockery. "Come on, join us! We all know our dear Zara has no clue how to make dumplings, so why not try mine instead?"

Landon shot Zara a nervous look, lowering his voice. “Please, don’t be upset anymore, okay?”

Zara ignored him, her focus entirely on Cassidy. Slowly, deliberately, she picked up a dumpling and took a bite.

Cassidy’s eyes gleamed with amusement. “Well? How does it taste?”

Zara didn’t answer.

But Landon? His face drained of color. He turned to her, his hands trembling slightly.

“Get out of my house,” he said, his voice shaky, like his entire world had just collapsed around him.

But Cassidy wasn’t done.

Feigning to be surprised, she let out a lazy hum before sneering. "Do you know what you just ate?"

The air grew thick, suffocating.

Cassidy leaned in, her smile widening. "You ate the child you aborted yesterday. That’s what’s wrapped inside."

Her grin was pure malice.

“Delicious, isn’t it?”

She was reveling in this—savoring Zara’s pain like a fine wine. Every word was meant to crush, to obliterate, to make sure Zara never crawled back from this.

“How does it feel?” Cassidy cooed, tilting her head. "How does it feel to taste your own flesh and blood?"