On Our Fifth Anniversary My Husband Begged Me Not to Leave Chapter 18

On Our Fifth Anniversary My Husband Begged Me Not to Leave Chapter 18

My mother pulled through.

The international team revised her treatment plan.

A week later, she was transferred out of the ICU.

The day I got the news, I sat on the bench outside her room, buried my face in my hands, and cried for a very long time.

All the terror and exhaustion and helplessness—it finally had somewhere to go.

“Hey.” Liam crouched in front of me, holding out a tissue.

There was something clumsy and endearing about the way he fumbled for words.

“She’s okay now. So why are you still crying?”

I took the tissue and wiped my eyes.

“Thank you, Liam. Really.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly looking embarrassed.

“Honestly? I didn’t do it just because I’m a nice person.”

I blinked.

He looked at me.

Straightforward.

Unflinching.

—

“I like you.” The words landed between us, clean and simple.

“I noticed you on the road days before I actually met you. I followed you for miles on my bike, trying to figure out how to get close. You were so beautiful, driving alone, so fearless. When I finally got into your car, I wished the road would never end.”

I stared at him.

After a long silence, I let out a soft sigh.

“Liam. You deserve someone better than me. I’m divorced. I’ve had a miscarriage. Don’t waste your time.”

He let out a short, incredulous laugh.

“So what? Is divorce a crime now?”

His expression was so matter-of-fact that I almost laughed despite myself.

But he must have seen the hesitation on my face, because he leaned closer, eyes glinting.

“Can I at least get a spot on the waiting list?”

I shook my head, but the corner of my mouth betrayed me.

“I’m really not in the right headspace for this.”

“That’s fine.” He answered so fast it was almost comical.

“I’ll wait. I’m young. I’ve got time.”

Something shifted in my chest—something I couldn’t name.

—

And then a voice behind me, raw and splintering.

“Stella.”

Ethan stood at the end of the hallway.

I didn’t know how long he’d been there.

His shirt was still wrinkled, and he’d lost weight—he looked like a man who’d been hollowed out from the inside.

The confidence and composure I’d always associated with him were gone.

He just stared at me, and after a long moment, he spoke.

“Is there… really not even a sliver of hope left for me?”

—

I stood up slowly. Liam stepped back, giving me space, but his presence stayed close—a quiet reassurance.

I looked at Ethan. Really looked at him. The man I’d once loved with everything I had. The man who had been my entire world.

And I realized, with startling clarity, that I felt nothing but pity.

“Ethan,” I said gently, “you’ve been asking me for hope since the moment I left. But hope isn’t something I can give you. It’s something you have to find in yourself. And the truth is, you’ve never needed me. You needed to lose me. You needed to realize that love isn’t a given. It’s something you have to protect every single day. And you didn’t protect ours.”

He swallowed hard, his eyes glassy. “I know I failed you. I know I hurt you. But I’ve changed. I’ve been trying—”

“Trying isn’t enough anymore.” I cut him off, not cruelly, just tired. “I spent years waiting for you to try. And now that I’ve stopped, you’ve suddenly found the energy. That’s not love, Ethan. That’s panic.”

He opened his mouth, closed it, then finally asked, his voice barely a whisper: “So this is it? You’re choosing him?”

I looked at Liam, then back at Ethan.

“I’m choosing me. For the first time in my life, I’m choosing me. If someone else fits into that picture later, that’s fine. But I’m not making decisions based on what you want anymore.”

Ethan stood there for a long moment. Then he nodded slowly, like a man accepting the end of something he’d known was coming for years.

“I understand,” he said quietly. “I’ll… I’ll give you space.”

He turned and walked away. This time, he didn’t look back.

And for the first time, neither did I.