On Our Fifth Anniversary My Husband Begged Me Not to Leave Chapter 03

On Our Fifth Anniversary My Husband Begged Me Not to Leave Chapter 03

I didn’t sleep that night. I just kept packing.

Only by keeping my hands constantly busy could I ignore the hollow, aching pain in my chest.

Near dawn, I opened the storage closet and dug out my long-abandoned camera equipment.

I picked up the camera and pressed the power button. With a soft electronic hum, the screen flickered back to life.

In that instant, my nose stung with tears.

Thank god. It still worked. There was still time.

I carried the camera back to the living room.

I was about halfway through organizing everything when my phone rang. It was the real estate agent.

“Ms. Shaw, regarding that house you and your husband viewed last week—I’ve already spoken with the owner. If everything looks good, we can sign the contract by next weekend.”

My hands paused. I’d nearly forgotten.

A while back, Ethan got promoted. His salary increased significantly. He said our current place was too small and wouldn’t be practical once we had kids, so he wanted to upgrade to something bigger. The idea was his. But from start to finish—viewing properties, selecting houses, contacting agents, comparing floor plans, calculating mortgage payments—I handled every bit of it alone. He only came with me once. I was so excited that day, eagerly pulling him through what would be the future nursery, asking what kind of decor style he liked. He just stared down at his phone and answered dismissively, “Looks fine. You decide.” I saw his screen clearly. He was texting Maren Walsh. He didn’t even finish the tour before Maren called him away.

At that memory, I said calmly into the phone, “That house—I don’t want it anymore.”

“What?” The agent was stunned. “Why not? Mr. Hayes seemed so happy with it.”

I looked down at the camera in my hands. After a long pause, I let out a quiet laugh. “Because we’re getting a divorce.”

The other end of the line fell instantly silent. I didn’t explain further. I just hung up.

By the time I finished packing, the sun was already high in the sky. I took the divorce papers and drove to the hospital. Five years of marriage—and it could all be ended with nothing more than a few thin sheets of paper. They felt absurdly weightless in my hands.

It was lunch break. I figured Ethan would be in his office, so I headed straight there. I raised my hand to knock—but the door was opened by Maren Walsh.

A flicker of shock crossed her face. “Stella?”

I instinctively tried to look past her, searching for Ethan. But she shifted to block my line of sight, lowering her voice. “Dr. Hayes was completely exhausted last night. He still had to see patients all morning. He just barely fell asleep. What do you need?”

I looked at her. Her hair was slightly disheveled. Her clothes were wrinkled. And behind her—Ethan’s office.

I don’t know why, but a wave of nausea suddenly churned in my stomach. I clenched the document folder in my hand and forced myself to look away.

“I just need him to sign something.”

Maren glanced down at the folder in my hand and smiled. “He’s so tired. He finally managed to get an hour of sleep—I really can’t bring myself to wake him. How about you leave it with me? Once he’s awake, I’ll make sure he gets it.”

I wanted to refuse. But then I thought—I don’t want to see Ethan right now anyway.

So I handed the folder over. “Thanks. I appreciate it.”

I turned and walked out of the office.

But the image of what I’d just seen kept replaying in my mind. Her in his office. Them spending their lunch break together. So natural. So intimate. As if it was exactly how things were meant to be.

The nausea in my stomach intensified. I felt sick. Sick enough to vomit. I rushed into the bathroom, gripping the sink as I dry-heaved. My stomach was completely empty. Nothing came up. I don’t know how long it took before the wave of sickness finally passed. I splashed cold water on my face. But the moment I stepped out of the bathroom, the world spun violently around me. I couldn’t control it—I blacked out.

When I came to, the smell of antiseptic filled my nose. I slowly opened my eyes and found myself lying in a hospital bed. The nurse beside me saw I was awake and let out a relieved breath. “Ma’am, you’re finally awake.”

I propped myself up, my head still dizzy. “What happened to me?”

The nurse smiled and handed me a test report. “Nothing serious. You just haven’t been resting properly.” She paused, and then her smile widened. “And also… Congratulations. You’re pregnant.”