I Walked Away And He Lost His Mind (Zephyra) novel Chapter 11

I closed my eyes again, but my mind involuntarily started to mull over the reason for Steven’s stomach pain.

Steven was a workaholic. Before we got married, he often skipped meals for work, which led to chronic stomach problems.

After we married, I felt sorry for him and dedicated myself to mastering the art of cooking. He fell in love with my food, and his stomach issues practically disappeared.

I guess without me, his old habits—and old pains—were returning. What an unlucky man.

But then again, his true love was a doctor. If he was really in pain, he would undoubtedly use it as an excuse to go to her for comfort and sympathy.

Whatever. It had nothing to do with me. After I took care of my business tomorrow, I would push for the divorce and get out of their way for good.

***

The next day, Rachel was up bright and early. She popped her head in to tell me that something urgent had come up at her company and she had to leave immediately.

“I’ve sent you the address for the meeting. You can just drive there yourself. To make up for bailing on you, I’ll treat you to a huge dinner tonight!”

I was still half-asleep. “Mmm, okay,” I mumbled.

It wasn't until the sun was high in the sky that I finally dragged myself out of bed.

I showered and put on some light makeup.

The woman in the mirror had almond-shaped eyes that were both elegant and serene, with a slight upward curve to her lips that hinted at a playful charm. Dressed in a red gown and adorned with just the right amount of jewelry, she was vibrant, beautiful, and bold.

I wasn't unattractive; I just had a certain foxy look that was the complete opposite of the pure, innocent, first-love vibe that Steven's crush gave off.

I shrugged, curled my hair, and applied a coat of bright red lipstick, leaning into the vixen look.

After a quick breakfast downstairs, I drove to the address Rachel had sent me.

For some reason, the address felt increasingly familiar, but I couldn’t quite place it.

I felt a pang of embarrassment. Somania and Oneira were cheesy, dramatic names I had come up with in high school. Hearing them now made me cringe.

“Yes, I’m Somania.”

The secretary gasped, covering her mouth in delight, and eagerly reached out to shake my hand.

“Oh my god! The top designer Somania, who burst onto the scene in high school and whose brand ONEIRA reached its peak while you were in college! I can’t believe I’m actually meeting you!”

“Ma’am, the managers have been looking for you for ages! When we heard you might be coming in today, we were all a bit skeptical. I can’t believe you’re really here!”

She was so excited that she was crushing my hand. I managed a tight, awkward smile and gently pulled my hand back.

“A friend of mine arranged the meeting.”

The secretary continued to gush, seemingly not hearing me. “Ma’am, I’m a huge fan of your work! Why did you stop designing? We haven’t heard anything from you in over a year. I thought you had retired.”