On Our Fifth Anniversary My Husband Begged Me Not to Leave Chapter 05

On Our Fifth Anniversary My Husband Begged Me Not to Leave Chapter 05

No matter how urgently I wanted it, the surgery couldn’t be scheduled until the next morning. I had no choice but to go home first.

The sunset was stunning from the terrace. Gardenias. Roses. Succulents. Hydrangeas. Over the years, I’d nurtured each one of them, little by little. Ethan was always too busy with work to spend time with me, so I poured my feelings into plants instead. Once I’m gone, he’ll probably never take care of them. It’d be a shame to let them wither.

With that thought, I pulled out my phone and snapped a photo for the building group chat. [Moving soon. Giving away all my flowers for free. First come, first served.]

The neighbors loved them. Within half an hour, the balcony was mostly empty. As I handed off the last pot of hydrangeas, I stood alone on the bare balcony, lost in thought. Letting go of my attachments wasn’t as hard as I’d imagined.

After giving away the flowers, I walked into the walk-in closet. A glass cabinet was filled with designer bags, most of them gifts from Ethan. I used to be so happy whenever I received one. But now, looking at them again, I remembered his dismissive expression whenever he handed them over—and the fact that he’d even given me the same style twice. It was laughable. The man I loved had never really been the real Ethan. He was the Ethan I built up in my imagination. Now that the filter was gone, I finally saw how little any of it was worth.

I photographed them, uploaded them, and listed all the bags he’d given me on a resale platform. Orders came in quickly—I sold seven or eight in a single night. What was once a packed closet suddenly emptied out into wide-open space. Just like my heart. It was being cleared out, piece by piece.

At ten o’clock that night, I heard the front door unlock. I looked up and saw Ethan walk in. He had a scrape on his forehead, a bruise on his face, and his right arm was wrapped in thick bandages. The person holding him up—was Maren Walsh. Her eyes were red, like she’d just been crying.

“Stella, a patient’s family got violent today. Dr. Hayes got hurt protecting me. You have to take good care of him.”

I looked at her and said calmly, “If you’re so worried, you can stay and take care of him yourself.”

Maren’s face flushed instantly, and her tears fell even harder. “Stella, I didn’t mean it like that… Dr. Hayes and I are just colleagues…”

Before she could finish, Ethan’s expression had already darkened. “Stella, can you stop being so sarcastic for once?” I was genuinely confused. “What did I say?” “Maren was kind enough to bring me home. Why are you being so passive-aggressive?” He slammed his car keys onto the table and looked at me with profound disappointment.

Maren hurriedly wiped her tears. “Dr. Hayes, don’t blame her! It’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have brought you home. I’ll leave right now.” She turned and ran out. Ethan didn’t hesitate for a second—he immediately chased after her. The front door slammed shut. The room fell back into silence. I lowered my head and continued packing.

An hour later, Ethan finally came back. His expression was even darker than before. He didn’t notice a single thing different about me, and he certainly didn’t notice the empty balcony or the bare closet. All he asked was, “Are you satisfied now?” I didn’t even lift my head. “Satisfied about what?” “Maren cried the whole way home. She didn’t do anything to you. Why do you always attack her?” My hands didn’t stop moving. I was used to this long ago. In his eyes, the victim was always Maren Walsh. And I was always the villain, aggressive and unreasonable.

After stuffing the last bag into a packing box, I couldn’t be bothered to argue anymore. I got up and headed toward the bedroom. “Stop.” Ethan’s voice went cold. “You didn’t make dinner again?” My steps paused. “There’s frozen ravioli in the fridge. And pasta. If you really can’t manage that, just order takeout.”

Ethan’s face turned ashen. He raised his bandaged arm. “I’m injured.”

I looked back at him with a mocking sneer. “You didn’t get hurt for me. Am I supposed to repay someone else’s debt of gratitude?”

Ethan’s face went rigid. After a long beat, he let out a cold laugh. “Fine. Stella. You’re really something.” He stormed into the study and slammed the door so hard the walls shook. I didn’t even flinch. I had surgery tomorrow. No time to waste on his tantrums. I climbed into bed and fell asleep quickly. It was the best sleep I’d had since I decided to divorce.

The next morning, my best friend came to pick me up. “Are you absolutely sure?” she asked again, hands gripping the steering wheel. I looked down at my belly and after a long silence, I nodded gently. “Yes.” Baby, I’m so sorry. I hope in your next life, you can have parents who truly love each other.

After completing the paperwork, I was wheeled into the operating room. The doctor was verifying my information. The anesthesiologist was in position. And then—a familiar figure walked in. I looked up and met those eyes. An icy chill shot down my spine. It was Maren Walsh. She was wearing sterile surgical scrubs and a mask, standing right beside the doctor. When she caught my stare, she didn’t look the least bit surprised. In her clear, bright eyes, a trace of unmistakable amusement flickered to life.