Time-Limited Love: A Contract Expired, Not Renewed novel Chapter 187

In the surgical consult room, morning light filtered in through the blinds. It was still early—office hours hadn’t started yet.

Zoey pushed open the door to Zinnia’s office, balancing a cup of black coffee in one hand. She paused in the doorway, catching sight of Zinnia popping a handful of pills into her mouth.

“Are you sick?” Zoey asked, her tone casual, but her eyes flicked to the medicine boxes on the desk. The color drained from her face.

Noticing Zoey’s stare, Zinnia hurried to gather up the boxes, but Zoey was faster. She snatched them away, scanning the labels. Her expression shifted instantly.

“Sertraline? Alprazolam?” Zoey’s eyes rimmed red with anger and worry. “You’re taking these?”

Her voice trembled. She was a doctor, maybe not a psychiatrist, but she knew enough. It all made awful sense—the near-fatal incident Zinnia had survived in Norway, the meds, the shadows in her eyes.

“This is PTSD, isn’t it?” Zoey’s question cracked as tears spilled down her cheeks.

Zinnia reached out, pulled her into a hug. “It’s okay. I’ve already seen a therapist, and the nightmares were worst at the beginning, but I haven’t had one in weeks. I’ll finish the meds, go in for a checkup, and I should be fine.”

Zoey wasn’t naive. She knew PTSD didn’t vanish so easily. Zinnia was just trying to comfort her, as always—putting on a brave face so others wouldn’t worry.

“You’re the one who’s sick, yet you’re the one comforting me?” Zoey grumbled, wiping her tears.

Zinnia just smiled, grabbed a tissue, and gently dabbed the salty streaks from Zoey’s cheeks. “You know I can’t stand to see you cry. You’re my mom’s star protégé—if I make you cry, she’ll have my head.”

She changed the subject. “Anyway, what did you want to see me about?”

Zoey shook her head and sighed. “Saw Landon drop you off just now. Just wanted to check in, that’s all.” She set the coffee on Zinnia’s desk. “Picked this up for you. I’ll head back to the clinic.”

Zinnia nodded, then stopped her. “Zoey, please—don’t tell my parents about this. They’ve got enough on their plate. I don’t want them worrying over me, too.”

Zoey hesitated, eyes downcast. After a moment, she nodded. “Alright.”

She lingered in the doorway. “But… are you planning to tell them about your divorce, too? Or are you keeping that from them as well?”