I Walked Away, And He Lost His Mind Novel - Read I Walked Away, And He Lost His Mind Online For Free

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I Walked Away, And He Lost His Mind

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Between the Wings of Twilight Lies the Memory of You” by Liren Ava Roen

“Zephyra’s Second Chance”

The day Zephyra Lancaster was rushed to the hospital, coughing up blood and fighting for her life, was also the day her husband, Steven Lancaster, got engaged—to another woman.

Desperate and terrified, Zephyra called Steven three times, needing his consent for the emergency surgery that could save her. But each time, he hung up. His cold rejection cut deeper than the pain tearing through her body.

“Five years of marriage,” she thought bitterly, “and this is all I mean to you.”

As her vision blurred and her body weakened, a broadcast on the hospital’s television caught her eye: Steven’s grand engagement ceremony. Glittering lights, joyful crowds, fireworks exploding in the sky—while she, his wife, lay dying alone on a gurney.

Her last thought before the darkness took her was not of fear, but of heartbreak.

Then came a voice.
“Zephyra, wake up!”

Her eyes flew open, her heart racing. She blinked at the familiar figure standing beside her bed—her best friend, Antonia Lopez, looking mildly annoyed.

“Zephyra, if your stomach isn’t hurting that bad, you should go home,” Antonia said cheerfully. “Today’s your wedding anniversary! You promised you’d bake a cake for Steven!”

For a long moment, Zephyra could only stare at her in shock. Antonia’s words, the setting, even her tone—all of it felt like déjà vu.

She grabbed her phone with trembling hands.
The date on the screen read: 2024.

Her mind spun. This was the day she collapsed on the street—the day her first wedding anniversary began in hope and ended in despair.

Somehow, impossibly, Zephyra had been reborn—returned to the very day her downfall began.

In her previous life, she had been naive. When her chronic stomach illness flared up, she had fainted in pain, been taken to the hospital, and waited for Steven to come. He never did. When she recovered, she convinced herself he had been too busy. She baked him a cake that night, smiling through the pain, waiting with a foolish hope that he’d walk through the door. He never did.

This time, she swore, things would be different.

She wouldn’t call him. She wouldn’t beg. She wouldn’t chase.
If anyone would beg this time, it would be Steven Lancaster.

Zephyra left the hospital soon after. It wasn’t for him—she simply couldn’t stand the place. The antiseptic scent, the sterile walls, the hum of machines—it all reminded her of her past life, of the months she had wasted there, dying slowly from stomach cancer.

Antonia, unaware of the transformation within her friend, walked beside her, talking excitedly about baking the perfect cake for Steven. Zephyra barely responded, lost in her thoughts.

Then, as they walked down the hospital corridor, Zephyra’s eyes caught a familiar figure—a woman in a white coat, walking gracefully beside a patient.

The woman was beautiful—elegant and kind-looking, her smile soft and her presence radiant. She had a calm, warm energy that drew people in effortlessly.

Zephyra froze. Her heart stuttered.
She knew that face.

This was the woman Steven had always loved.

In her past life, Zephyra had seen her only in photos. But in person, she understood immediately why Steven had been so obsessed. The woman seemed born to be adored—gentle, poised, and pure. She was everything Zephyra was not.

And yet, despite all that, Zephyra had been the one to bear Steven’s title. Mrs. Lancaster.

It was a hollow victory. She had spent five long years married to a man whose heart belonged entirely to someone else. She had sacrificed her dignity, her joy, even her self-worth trying to earn his affection.

But he had never loved her.

In the life she remembered, Zephyra had given Steven everything. She had endured humiliation after humiliation, hoping for the smallest scrap of tenderness in return.

She remembered the night that marked the breaking point.

She had found evidence of his affair. She had confronted him, shaking and desperate, holding a knife in trembling hands. She had thought the threat might finally make him see how deeply she loved him, how much she was hurting.

But Steven had only looked at her with disdain.

“Stop with the theatrics, Zephyra,” he’d said coldly. “If you have the guts, then do it. I’ll make sure you get the finest coffin money can buy.”

Then he’d walked out—leaving her in a pool of tears on the floor.

She had dropped the knife, sobbing uncontrollably. For hours, she had waited, praying he would come back. But he never did.

Finally, she picked up the knife again. This time, she didn’t go for her throat—she cut her wrist instead.

It was slower that way. More painful.
Some part of her had still hoped that maybe, just maybe, he would return in time to save her.

He hadn’t.

And yet, the universe had given her another chance.

Now, standing in that same hospital, facing the woman who had always been at the center of Steven’s world, Zephyra’s expression hardened.

She no longer felt envy or despair—only clarity.

In this new life, she would not repeat the mistakes of her past.
She would not cling to a man who treated her like a burden.
She would not beg for crumbs of affection or bleed for a love that was never hers.

This time, she would rise on her own terms.

If fate had given her another beginning, she would make sure the ending was hers to write.