I Walked Away And He Lost His Mind (Zephyra) novel Chapter 25

The voice was unmistakably familiar. It was Verna, Steven’s one true love. 

I immediately shut my mouth and discreetly ended the call. 

That bastard. He had another woman in his house but was still dragging his feet on our divorce. What was wrong with him? 

And Verna was bold. What time was it? You don’t just go to a man’s house late at night. Wasn’t that just walking into the lion’s den, handing Steven an opportunity on a silver platter? 

But then I reconsidered. Whatever happened between them was none of my business. I was his soon–to–be ex–wife. This time around, I just needed to take care of myself. 

“Zephy!” 

Rachel had returned at some point, a large bag of takeout in her hand. “I brought you that feast I promised this morning!” she announced, shaking the bag. 

A grin spread across my face. “That looks amazing. You’re the best.” 

She sat down beside me, unpacking the food without looking up. “Zephyra, were you just on the phone with that scumbag?” 

I grabbed a slice of pizza and mumbled “uh–huh” through a mouthful. 

Rachel’s hands paused, and she looked up at me, her expression filled with concern. “Zephyra, be honest with me. Do you… still have feelings for Steven?” 

I shook my head without a moment’s hesitation. “Not anymore.” 

The interview had been a disaster, but I didn’t want to worry her, so I made something up. “They didn’t hire me. It’s a big company, and they’re looking for someone with experience. A year as a housewife doesn’t really fit their requirements.” 

Rachel looked a little disappointed but quickly rallied. “That’s okay, it’s a small setback. I know tons of people. I’ll definitely find you a great company you’ll love!” 

I watched with a smile as she started plotting on my behalf, then wrapped my arms around her. “Rachel, thank you for always being here for me.” 

In both my lives, I had pushed away almost all my friends for Steven, dying completely alone in the end. This time, I had a second chance at friendship. Even after a year apart, we could still talk about anything, and she was here for me without question. 

She froze, a half–eaten chicken leg clutched in her hand. Then she nudged me away. “You idiot, we’re best friends! If you get all sentimental on me again, I’m not sharing my food.” 

I choked back the lump in my throat and let her go. “Rachel, there’s something I have to tell you. I saw Uncle Julian.”