I Walked Away And He Lost His Mind (Zephyra and Steven) novel Chapter 484

“We’re divorced. What wife are you talking about?” I hated it when Steven referred to himself as my husband. “If this isn’t imprisonment, then give me back my phone. And I don’t just want my phone; I want to go out, see a movie, go shopping. My legs, my choice.”

Steven turned to look at me, casting a cool glance my way. “So energetic. You’re not sore anymore? If you’re not, we can continue today. I wasn’t satisfied last night.”

I was speechless.

How could he talk about forcing himself on me so casually? What obligation did I have to satisfy him?

But nothing I said would matter. Just as Steven pointed out, I had walked into his room myself, and we were once married. If he forced himself on me again, I would be the one at a disadvantage. I’d never win in court.

“If you insist, I can’t stop you. But I have a very bad temper and I’m in a terrible mood. We’re thirty floors up. I wonder if a fall from here would kill me.”

Steven’s eyes narrowed, his handsome face instantly turning cold. “Erase any thoughts of dying from your mind. I don’t like hearing them.”

I crossed my arms and said nothing.

He loomed over me, grabbing my chin. He leaned in to kiss me, but I turned my head away. He didn't seem angry, simply planting a light, intimate kiss on my cheek instead.

“The pasta are getting cold. Go brush your teeth and eat. You wouldn’t want me to feed you.”

I shot him a frosty glare, swallowed my anger, and went to get ready. Then, I sat down to eat.

I expected it to taste terrible. Even if Steven had spent the past month learning to cook, he couldn't possibly be that good. But it was actually delicious.

The beef must have been marinated before being stir-fried; it was fragrant and paired perfectly with the pasta.

Steven sat across from me and smiled. “Is it good?”

Seeing the hopeful look in his eyes, I answered without mercy.

“It’s mediocre. Awful, in fact. You’re wasting food by cooking.”

A look of disappointment flickered across Steven’s face, but he just said, “I’ll do better next time. What do you want for lunch?”

Those words sounded so familiar.

They were the same words I used to ask him in my past life. Every day, I’d ask what he wanted for lunch, what he wanted for dinner. His preferences were my priority. I put him first in everything.

Especially when he was sick, I doted on him like a fool, constantly hovering around him. And what did he used to say?

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