I Walked Away And He Lost His Mind (Zephyra and Steven) novel Chapter 662

Steven's throat felt tight. He stroked my back. "It was just a nightmare. It wasn't real. I'm here with you now. No car is going to hit you. Did you... did you have any other nightmares?"

Steven's chest was broad and warm, and he held me securely in his arms. I felt safe.

Buried in his embrace, I said in a muffled voice, "No, that was all."

The furrow in his brow relaxed slightly. "Okay."

I started to calm down, but recalling the dream, I couldn't shake the feeling that I had truly lived it.

The joy, the passion, the fervent love—it all felt like it had actually happened. And the sensation of the crash, of being crushed, was terrifyingly real.

"Did it really not happen?"

I murmured to myself, unable to distinguish reality from the dream.

Steven's eyes darkened. "No. You're perfectly fine right now, aren't you?"

That's true.

If what happened in the dream were real, there's no way I'd have survived.

So it must have been just a dream.

I felt much better.

Steven's deep voice was gentle as he asked, "Does your head still hurt?"

I shook my head and pushed away from him slightly. "It was just a sudden, sharp pain. It's much better now."

He watched me, his gaze deep and quiet, his thin lips pressed into a firm line.

"The medical facilities here aren't good enough. After your interview tomorrow, you're coming back to Ixia with me to see a specialist. We need to find out if this is from the head injury when you fell into the sea, or if it's a side effect of the medication."

A knot of dread formed in my stomach. I hated hospitals. Biting my lip, I started, "Can I..."

"No. Letting you wait until after the interview is already a concession," Steven said, a sharp edge beneath his refined demeanor that left no room for argument. "Ixia has better specialists. I'm even having two fly in from abroad. Regardless of whether your memory returns, we need to fix these headaches."

I finished the whole thing, and then an overwhelming sleepiness took over. After a quick wash, I collapsed into bed and fell asleep.

Steven stepped outside the inn, a cigarette dangling from his lips. He lit one after another, the pale smoke swirling around his face. He stared up at the dark sky, his black eyes filled with frustration.

A light rain began to fall, landing on his shoulders, but he didn't move an inch, making no effort to seek shelter.

Soon, a black umbrella appeared over his head. Gordon's voice was soft.

"Mr. Lancaster, I've contacted the agency. They said the person who administered the drug to Madam might not have followed the procedure correctly, or perhaps she was in an accident a day after taking it and suffered a severe impact. In either case, her symptoms aren't a known side effect of the drug. There's nothing they can do."

Steven gave a quiet grunt of acknowledgment and slowly exhaled a ring of smoke.

Gordon watched him. "On the way back, I observed Madam closely. She doesn't seem to have regained her memory. Did you... did you see something that makes you think she has?"

Steven's thoughts drifted elsewhere, and he let out a soft, mocking laugh.

"It has nothing to do with the drug. Her memories are branded onto her soul. She couldn't remember when she was supposed to, and now that we've tried to erase them, they can't be erased."