I Walked Away And He Lost His Mind (Zephyra and Steven) novel Chapter 192

How could he throw his medicine like that? Those pills were keeping him alive!

Uncle Julian immediately dropped his angry expression and lowered the hand holding the pill bottle. He shot Steven a furious glare, the burly, bearded man suddenly looking like a scolded child.

Steven, meanwhile, crossed the room in a few long strides and took the stack of files from my hands. I resisted, looking up at him defiantly.

“What did you say to him? Do you have any idea he’s a heart patient? How could you provoke him like that?!”

Steven’s face was grim. He looked down at me, his eyes slightly bloodshot. With a firm tug, he pulled the medical records from my grasp. He didn’t offer an explanation, simply stating, “I’ll take these to the professor. He needs to review them.”

I pursed my lips and ignored him, turning my attention to my uncle. My brow was furrowed with worry.

“Uncle Julian, could you please try to calm down? It’s only been two weeks since your surgery. You can’t get this emotional.”

This wasn’t working. After the transfer, I’d have to cut him off from any news about me. He cared too much, and his emotions were too volatile. Once he was through the surgery and on the road to recovery, then he could catch up.

Julian shot a sidelong glance at Steven, then nodded obediently at me.

“Your soon-to-be ex-husband says he’s arranging my transfer, and that it was your idea.”

I started peeling an apple, choosing my words carefully as I watched my uncle’s expression. “Yes. Your case is complicated, and this hospital can’t provide the care you need. Steven found a brilliant surgeon who can perform the open-heart surgery you require.”

Unlike Horace and Rachel, whose fates could be altered by changing the circumstances of their deaths, Uncle Julian’s was a ticking time bomb. As long as his heart condition remained untreated, his life was at risk, and I could lose him at any moment.

“So Zephyra really did say it,” Julian muttered. “He wasn’t lying…”

I didn’t catch that. I was struggling with the apple, the peel breaking every few seconds. The knife was terrible, and I was clumsy with it. Suddenly, a hand with long, elegant fingers took the apple from me, then the knife.

I glanced at Steven. In his hands, the apple was perfectly behaved, the peel coming off in one long, continuous spiral. I pouted. He never put this much effort into anything for me, but in front of my uncle, he was the picture of attentiveness. It was infuriating.

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