I Walked Away And He Lost His Mind (Zephyra and Steven) novel Chapter 273

My face was a mask of defiance, but I meekly nodded my head.

Steven studied me for a long moment before releasing my chin and heading upstairs. “Call me when it’s ready.”

Standing in the familiar kitchen, surrounded by familiar things, I was hit by a wave of déjà vu. I remembered the countless hours I had spent here in my past life, slaving away for Steven, and took a deep, steadying breath. I shed a few layers of clothing to make it easier to move, then grabbed an apple and took a crisp bite.

“You can do this, Zephyra,” I muttered to myself. “Don’t be afraid of a little difficulty.”

And if difficulty arose, I would simply lose my mind.

My first impulse was to make him a super-spicy chicken dish. After his stomach issues last night, a meal like that would surely send him back to the hospital. I wanted to make him regret choosing me, the cheapest option, over a mountain of cash.

But in the end, I made him a simple bowl of noodles with broth and a fried egg.

Horace’s future was still uncertain, and I couldn’t risk Steven changing his mind.

I called him down for dinner. On the table was his bowl of plain noodles, garnished with a couple of green vegetables. My meal, on the other hand, was a feast: spicy fried chicken, chili chicken wings, and stir-fried gizzards, all served with a heaping bowl of fragrant white rice. The contrast was stark, the spicy aroma of my food so potent that he wouldn’t even be able to steal a bite.

Steven glanced at the spread, then at his own meager bowl, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. He sat down and began to eat his noodles without a word.

I sat down as well and dug in.

In my past life, my anxiety over Steven had often ruined my appetite, leading to depression and, eventually, cancer. In this life, I savored every meal. The more stressed I was, the more I ate.

Tonight, I was particularly hungry. I devoured two bowls of rice, my eyes constantly darting to my phone, hoping for a message from Rachel. But there was nothing.

I wondered how Horace was doing. He had been in surgery for over an hour now.

Steven merely glanced at me once, then returned to his meal. He didn’t try to provoke me, didn’t make any demands, didn’t even speak to me. He just ate his food and took his medicine in silence.

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