When I Stopped Loving You

"I'll go to F Country. For the new medical research project."

Alice Baker's voice was steady, calm, resolute.

On the other end of the line, the man's tone spiked with excitement. "You mean it?"

"Yes."

A pause. Then his voice shifted, quieter. "But what about your husband? Your daughter? You've always said you couldn't leave them. Three years, Alice. That's a long time. What happens to them when you're gone?"

Alice didn't answer right away. Her gaze drifted across the room to the couple on the sofa, surrounded by a small crowd of admirers.

Brandon Robinson stood there in a custom-tailored suit that fit him like a second skin. Sharp jawline. Deep-set eyes. A nose chiseled like marble. He looked like something you'd find in a museum, untouchable and cold.

Except right now, he wasn't cold at all.

"Stella, this is for you. Your birthday gift. Let me put it on you."

The woman beside him was dressed to perfection, her pale cheeks flushed pink as she dipped her head with a shy smile.

They looked at each other like no one else existed.

Even Alice's daughter, Ella Robinson, was curled up in Stella Hall's lap, showing off the necklace she'd made with her tiny hands.

"Daddy and I made this together! We polished every single bead ourselves. It's completely handmade. One of a kind in the whole world. Isn't it pretty?"

She tilted her face up, eyes bright with hope.

Stella tapped her nose gently. "It's beautiful. The best gift I've ever gotten."

Alice felt something twist in her chest.

She'd seen this before. Too many times. But it never stopped hurting. Every time, it was like a hook dragging through her ribs, tearing something loose.

She hadn't seen her husband or her daughter in a month. She'd thought maybe they'd be happy to see her. Maybe they'd ask how she was.

They hadn't even looked at her.

She was their family. So why did they only have eyes for Stella?

It had always been this way. And it still was.

Alice turned away. "What happens to them doesn't matter anymore."

If they wanted Stella, they could have her.

This family? She was done.

"Come on, don't just stand there!"

Ella waved at her from across the room.

Alice ended the call. Swallowed the bitterness rising in her throat. Forced her exhausted body to move forward.

"Happy birthday, Stella."

Stella's smile was sweet as sugar. "Thank you, Alice. That means so much to me."

Brandon glanced up. His eyes skimmed over her, then away. "You're back. Sit down."

He said it like she was a stranger who'd wandered in off the street.

A minute ago, he'd been looking at Stella like she hung the moon.

Alice's throat tightened.

Ella wasn't done with her yet.

"Mommy, it's Aunt Stella's birthday. Why can't you just be happy for once?"

She hugged Stella tighter, pouting. "You're making everyone uncomfortable. You're so bad at this, Mommy. You ruin everything."

"Ella."

Stella's voice was soft, chiding. "Don't talk to Alice like that."

But Ella had been spoiled her whole life. The scolding only made her bolder.

"Why not? Aunt Stella, she's always so mean to you, and you still defend her."

"Don't worry. It's your birthday. Daddy and I will take care of you."

"We like you way more than her. I wish you were my mommy instead!"

She was four years old. And every word out of her mouth was a knife.

Alice looked at Brandon. Her eyes were burning.

"Ella. That's enough."

His voice was flat, detached. And then he said nothing else.

That silence was worse than anything he could've said.

Alice let out a bitter laugh. A dull ache spread through her chest.

What had she been expecting?

Brandon loved Stella. She'd known that for years.

Around her, the party went on. Laughter. Clinking glasses. Alice lifted her wine and drank, letting the alcohol drown the taste of bile in her mouth.

She'd just come back from a surgery that had taken over ten hours—a high-risk heart transplant. A child's life saved.

The second it was over, she'd booked the first flight home.

Because she couldn't wait to see them. Her daughter. Her husband.

She'd been stupid enough to think they'd missed her too.

She had thought this party was for her—a celebration.

It wasn't.

Did it hurt?

Yes.

But no one in this house cared how she felt.

Her husband ignored her. Her daughter resented her. Five years of marriage, and this was all she had to show for it.

Alice's eyes stung as she watched them gather around Stella, singing happy birthday.

Ella's face was lit up with joy, giggling as Stella tickled her.

Brandon filmed them on his phone, his expression soft in a way Alice had never seen directed at her.

They looked like a family.

Alice's lips quivered. She slipped out of the room, unnoticed.

The house was dark when she got home. Empty. Silent.

She walked into the bedroom and sat down at the desk. Pulled out the divorce papers she'd had drawn up months ago.

Her hand didn't shake as she signed her name.

She scheduled the email to send automatically. One week from now.

The same day she'd be boarding a plane to F Country.

The same day Brandon would receive the papers.

A parting gift.

Alice exhaled slowly. The exhaustion was still there, but underneath it, something else. Relief.

She'd married Brandon because she thought he was the man she'd been searching for. Seven years of looking, and she'd finally found him.

Now she understood. Love wasn't enough. It never had been. You needed two people to love each other, not just one.

It was fine.

She'd spent five years playing Mrs. Robinson. Four years playing mommy.

Now, finally, she could be Alice Baker again.