Chapter 167 Game Over

Chapter 167 Game Over

Zara’s POV

There they were.

I stood behind the second-floor curtain, peering through the rain-streaked glass as Aaron’s car rolled to a stop outside the decaying house.

Right on time.

A smile curved my lips, slow and sharp.

Sarah burst out first, of course. Panic poured off her in waves, visible even from here—her eyes wild, scanning every shadow, every boarded window, like a mother clawing for her lost child.

For a split second, guilt flickered in my chest, cold and unwelcome.

Then it vanished.

Because Sarah had always taken everything.

Everything.

My gaze slid to Aaron as he stepped out into the rain. Tall. Composed. Alert. The downpour plastered his shirt to his chest, outlining the familiar lines of his body. Still so handsome. Still mine.

Or he should have been.

My chest constricted painfully.

Even now, after all the wreckage, the sight of him twisted something deep inside me.

Sarah lunged forward. Aaron’s hand shot out instantly, catching her arm, pulling her back. Protecting her. Shielding her. The familiar ache bloomed behind my ribs, sharp as shattered glass.

Always Sarah.

Always.

My fingers crushed the dusty curtain fabric until my knuckles burned.

“Damn you,” I whispered, the words slipping out like venom.

Outside, Aaron scanned the property with those sharp, calculating eyes—searching for traps, for weaknesses, for me. For Kendrick.

A soft cry drifted from behind me.

My head snapped toward the portable crib in the corner. Kendrick lay there, bundled and warm, his tiny chest rising and falling in peaceful rhythm. Fed. Safe. Completely oblivious to the ruin his existence had caused.

His little fingers twitched once. His face—round, innocent, perfect—looked so serene.

I crouched beside the crib, breath catching.

“I don’t hate you,” I murmured. The confession startled me because it was true. I reached out, brushing one finger along the back of his tiny hand. Warm. So alive.

He was just a baby.

Aaron’s baby.

Sarah’s baby.

Living proof of everything I had lost.

“You know…” I whispered, voice cracking, “my life wasn’t supposed to end like this.”

A broken laugh escaped me, hollow and jagged in the empty room.

“You have no idea what you’ve done.”

My eyes burned. I blinked hard, stood up, and walked away before the feeling could sink its claws deeper.

No. I wasn’t doing this again. I wasn’t falling into self-pity.

I returned to the window.

Sarah was crying now, shoulders shaking in the rain. Aaron leaned close, speaking to her, his hand resting on her shoulder. Comforting her. The way he used to comfort me.

Or had he? The question gnawed at me.

When had I lost him?

Not when Sarah got pregnant. No. It started earlier. When his touches grew distant and mechanical. When conversations became polite obligations. When laughter faded into heavy silences. When being together felt harder than being alone.

A bitter laugh scraped my throat.

The truth settled like lead in my gut: Aaron didn’t leave because of Sarah.

He left because he had stopped loving me.

Maybe he hadn’t loved me for years.

Tears blurred the scene outside. I wiped them away viciously.

“No,” I hissed, shaking my head. “That’s not true.”

But the lie tasted like ash.

The room pressed in—peeling wallpaper curling like dead skin, dusty furniture shrouded in shadows, the sleeping baby, and me. Utterly alone.

Dad was gone. Mom barely picked up anymore. Aaron hated me. Sarah feared me. The world saw me as the victim.

But I knew what I was becoming.

A monster.

The word echoed in my skull. I laughed—long, hollow, echoing off the walls.

“Congratulations, Mum,” I said to the empty air. “You finally got what you wanted.”

Rage surged through me, hot and violent, burning away the tears.

I spun back to the window.

Aaron had moved closer to Sarah, his hand still on her shoulder. She didn’t pull away. Something inside me cracked wide open, raw and bleeding.

My breathing turned ragged, chest heaving with each painful inhale.

After everything—the lies, the scandal, the overdose, the kidnapping, the destruction—he still chose her.

Not me.

Her.

The future that should have been mine. The family. The life. All stolen.

It wasn’t enough. None of it was enough.

As long as they had each other, they still had hope.

I couldn’t allow that.

My gaze dropped to my phone. Fingers steady despite the storm inside me, I unlocked it, opened Sarah’s messages, and began typing.

Come inside. Alone.

I stared at the words, then added:

If Aaron follows you… you will never see Kendrick again.

A small, dangerous smile pulled at my lips.

Perfect.

I pressed send.

Outside, Sarah’s phone lit up. She froze. Aaron noticed immediately, turning toward her, asking something. She read the message, and every drop of color drained from her face.

I stepped back from the window, heart pounding with dark satisfaction.

The game was almost over.

One way or another.

Tonight, everything would end.