I Walked Away And He Lost His Mind (Zephyra and Steven) novel Chapter 495

Horace wasn't prepared for the blow and stumbled back a couple of steps.

I cried out, “Horace! Are you okay?”

Horace’s eyes hardened. He wiped the blood from the corner of his lip and, filled with rage, lunged at Steven. The two of them began to fight.

The agent was shocked. “Holy crap, so the rumors about Horace getting into brawls in high school were true. This kid looks so gentle, but he can really fight… And Mr. Lancaster, he seems so refined, how can he be such a brawler too?”

I watched as Horace began to lose ground, and flashes of their fight from my past life played out before my eyes.

It felt like even though so many things had changed, the conflicts between us were still following the same old path.

I said urgently, “Stop standing there making wisecracks! Horace’s leg isn’t fully healed! He’s your cash cow, go help him!”

The agent finally snapped out of it and hurried to break them up.

“Horace! Horace, stop fighting!”

I moved to stand directly in front of Steven, my eyes locked on his.

“If you want to hit him, you have to go through me first. Knock me down, and then you can fight Horace.”

Steven watched me fiercely protecting Horace, and it felt like a bucket of ice water had been dumped over his heart. He warned in a low voice, “Move.”

I didn’t budge.

Horace shook off the agent’s hand and put his arm around my shoulder, coughing. “Zephyra, you don’t have to stand in front of me. I’m fine.”

I spared him a glance, and my expression immediately soured. I had seen Steven’s punches were brutal, but I hadn’t realized how much damage they’d done. Horace's face was covered in bruises—around his lips, on his cheeks, by his eyes.

I turned my angry glare back to Steven. “Steven, do you have any idea how precious Horace’s face is? I don’t care if you hurt me, but if you do any real damage to him, I will never be done with you!”

“His agent is right here. We have witnesses, and we won’t let you get away with this!”

“Zephyra!” Steven’s voice was heavy with anger, his eyes laced with red veins. His hands at his sides were clenched into tight fists.

“So what if I hit him? He has no self-awareness. He dares to fight me for you. Even if I crippled him, it’s what he deserves.”

Horace coughed weakly, his cold gaze fixed on Steven.

“Zephyra used to love you. You were husband and wife, and she stood by you without question. But you didn't appreciate it. Steven, you’re the one who lost her. And since you lost her, you have no right to marry her again.” He tightened his grip on my hand, his voice sharp with a resolve I couldn't quite decipher. “Now—Zephyra’s heart is with me. If you want to take her from my side, you’ll have to step over my dead body first!”

My heart trembled, and I didn’t dare look back at Horace.

Steven’s lips pressed into a thin line, his expression growing even paler.

I added with a cold smile, “And what you said is ridiculous. Let’s set aside how enraged and Hulk-level strong you are right now. Even if you were genuinely sick, even if you were about to be rushed to the emergency room, I would not be the one to call for an ambulance.”

“Steven, any kindness I had for you was destroyed by you long ago. Don't ever expect me to be good to you. Right now, my only wish is for you to get your comeuppance. I hope you live every day in agony, cry yourself to sleep every night, lose everyone you love, and never find happiness.”

In my past life, I had loved him for years. The slightest discomfort he felt would keep me up all night, trying to find ways to help, brewing all sorts of medicinal soups for him. Even when he gave me the cold shoulder, even when his words were like daggers, I was there for him through thick and thin, protecting him. Thanks to my care, he was rarely ever sick.

And what about me? I was so good at taking care of others, yet I was the one who ended up dying from illness.

I had learned my lesson in this life. Whether Steven lived or died was no concern of mine. As long as I was divorced from him, that was all that mattered.

The van drove away, leaving Steven standing motionless. Horace and I sat together, and I didn't even spare him a passing glance. Naturally, I didn't see the lonely, bitter smile on his face, tinged with a hint of sorrow.

Steven walked to his car; the front was slightly dented. He took out two painkillers and swallowed them, then lit a cigarette. The pale smoke swirled around him, but it couldn't hide the gloom in his eyes.

It was then that a familiar voice spoke quietly beside him.

“Mr. Lancaster, is that your old headache acting up again? Is it a side effect from your craniotomy two months ago, or is it from the fight? I saw Horace land a couple of heavy blows to your head. He didn't hold back at all—”