The Night I Stopped Loving Him

The sting came first.

A sharp, burning slap across my cheek. My head jerked to the side, a gasp stuck in my throat as my vision blurred from the force of it. My body froze, every nerve screaming at once.

Did Adrian just hit me?

I touched my cheek, the heat radiating from where his hand had landed. Slowly, I looked up at him—my husband. The man I had once loved with every piece of myself.

His voice was cold, devoid of any remorse. “You know that’s the only thing you’re useful for, Cassia. And yet you still won’t do it.”

Then he shoved me. My knees buckled as I caught myself on the arm of the couch, the room spinning around me.

And just like that, he turned his back on me.

“We’ll eat out,” he told her—Talia—like I wasn’t even there.

She followed him quietly, with just a hint of a smirk on her lips. Not pity. Not guilt. Satisfaction.

And they walked out.

Leaving me behind in the silence of a home I no longer recognized.

---

How did we get here?

Just hours ago, I was folding laundry, trying to pretend we were still okay.

Then he said it, casually, as if it were nothing more than a passing comment:

“Talia’s pregnant. She’s staying here until the baby’s born.”

The words didn’t register at first.

Talia? His secretary?

My heartbeat roared in my ears. My lips parted, but no sound came out.

“What?” I finally choked out. “She’s what?”

“She’s carrying my child,” Adrian said simply. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Not a big deal?” My voice rose, trembling. “She’s pregnant—and you want her to live with us? Are you hearing yourself?”

Adrian sighed like he was tired of the conversation already. “You’re my wife, Cassia. But you’re infertile. We’ve tried for years. You know how important it is for me to have an heir.”

I flinched.

Five years.

Five long, painful years of fertility treatments, sleepless nights, crushed hopes. I had changed everything—my diet, my body, my life—just to give him what he wanted. A child. A family.

I thought we were in it together.

I thought we had come to terms with it—together.

Clearly, I was wrong.

“This isn’t surrogacy,” I snapped. “You didn’t ask me. You didn’t even tell me. You slept with her, Adrian. You betrayed me.”

“It’s not betrayal,” he said flatly. “It’s a solution.”

I laughed bitterly. “A solution? She’s not a surrogate. She’s your mistress.”

“Cassia, stop being dramatic. You still have everything. The house. The title. My name.”

“But not your heart,” I whispered.

He didn’t deny it. Just laughed like it was absurd.

And then she appeared. Talia. Soft-spoken. Hands folded, eyes wide in fake innocence.

“I didn’t mean to cause trouble,” she said gently. “Maybe I shouldn’t stay. I can find somewhere else until the baby comes.”

Adrian’s expression softened in an instant. He crossed to her, touched her arm. “No. You’re staying.”

The way he looked at her—he hadn’t looked at me like that in years.

And then he turned to me, all command and coldness.

“Cassia, make something for Talia. We’re hungry.”

That was the final blow.

I crossed my arms, grounding myself against the rage. “I’m not your maid. If she’s hungry, she can cook.”

His eyes narrowed. And then came the slap.

---

Now they were gone.

And I was alone. Again.

But this time, something inside me was different.

The tears came silently as I stood in the ruins of our life. I thought we had a future. I thought we still had time.

But Adrian had made his choice.

He had destroyed everything we had, and he hadn’t even blinked.

If he could build a new life without me...

Then so could I.

And this time, I would build it without apology.

Without him.