I Walked Away And He Lost His Mind (Zephyra) novel Chapter 52

Steven’s hand clamped onto the back of my neck. He stared at me, his eyes cold and sharp, his voice low and dangerous. "You're the one who's insane. You want a divorce, yet you keep provoking me. Don't you know you shouldn't provoke a man?"

His warm breath fanned across my face. I looked at his tense, handsome features. "Who's provoking you? You insulted me first. I was just returning the favor. Besides, am I really a provocation to you?"

In our past life, the only time he ever got angry with me was when I refused to grant him a divorce. Otherwise, he couldn't be bothered to even look at me. And all I said was that he couldn't have me. How was that a provocation?

His expressionless face gave nothing away, but his voice grew colder with each word. "You suddenly have a complete change in personality, you're constantly demanding a divorce, you tell everyone I can't perform, and now you're saying I can't have you. If I let all of that slide, wouldn't I truly be the spineless coward who can't even handle one woman? Hm?"

His gaze was scorching. My scalp tingled. I knew he wouldn't do anything inappropriate, but my heart still hammered in my chest. I tried to get up, but he held me firmly by the shoulders, trapping me in his lap.

I met his eyes again. We were so close that if he leaned down even slightly, he could kiss me. I hated being this close to him and leaned back as far as I could. "I just meant that since we're getting a divorce, you don't need to worry about my figure. That's why I said you couldn't have me. It wasn't to say that you could never have me, you could…" I stopped abruptly, annoyed and embarrassed. What on earth was I saying?

A cold sneer escaped Steven's lips. His long fingers slowly slid from my shoulder down to my waist, sending a shiver through me. "So young, yet so lonely and unsatisfied. Zephyra, I've underestimated you."

I was so frustrated. Where was he getting the idea that I was desperate? Even in our past life when we were intimate, he was the one who was unsatisfied, he was the one who dragged me to bed.

I ground my teeth, pushed his hand away, and gave up trying to explain. "Yes, I am lonely. I may be young, but I'm a married woman. And since you, my married husband, won't touch me and fulfill your duties, the only use you have is to sign your name on the divorce papers."

His grip on me tightened. I saw a flash of darkness in his eyes before he shoved me away. I nearly fell but managed to catch myself. I turned back to him. "Steven!"

Steven's dark eyes were fixed on me. He wasn't angry, just mocking. "This is takeout, not something you cooked. If you don't want to talk about the divorce, then get out. I find you very irritating to look at."

I was stunned. He hadn't even tasted it, how could he know? I thought the takeout from this place was pretty good. How could Steven tell it wasn't my cooking?

Seeing him about to go back to his work, I panicked and slammed my hand down on his mouse. "Wait! Yes, it's takeout, but that's because you demanded a good meal. Where was I supposed to produce a gourmet meal on such short notice?"

He didn't respond, but he also didn't push me away. I seized the opportunity. "How about this: I'll make you some spaghetti. After you eat, we can talk. If you don't say anything, I'll take that as a yes."

Consider it a farewell meal. If eating one last meal I cooked would get him to discuss the divorce, it was worth it. Without waiting for his answer, I went downstairs, found a small cafe, and quickly prepared a plate of spaghetti. When I brought it back up, I lifted the lid to reveal a fragrant, appetizing dish. I placed it in front of him. "Eat up. This time, I definitely made it myself."

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