When I Stopped Loving Him, He Started to Care

“I’ll do it,” I whispered into the phone, my hand trembling. “Whatever you want, I’ll even marry the man you arranged for me before. Just come get me. Please.”

There was silence on the other end. Then my stepfather’s calm, concerned voice filled my ear.

“Isabella… what’s happening?” he asked, slow and steady. “Did Kevin hurt you again?”

My eyes burned as I stared at the hospital ceiling. “Yes,” I said. “He hurt me. Again. He betrayed me.”

Another pause. “Are you sure this time? You’ve called before, asked me to come for you. Then you always change your mind.”

“Not this time,” I said. My throat tightened. “Just… come get me. In one week. I’ll be ready.”

He sighed. “Alright. But no turning back. If you’re choosing to leave this time, then leave for good.”

“I promise,” I whispered, even as tears slipped silently down my cheeks.

The call ended. I dropped the phone beside me and stared at the ceiling, letting the truth settle like ash in my lungs. This wasn’t the first time I begged my stepfather for help. The last time was a year ago—when I found out my husband Kevin was cheating on me.

With my half-sister. Jasmine.

The betrayal had crushed me. But worse than that? I still stayed. I told myself maybe he’d change. Maybe he’d come back to me. Maybe it was a phase. But every time I forgave him, he proved me wrong again.

I should’ve left then. I should’ve walked away when I still had pieces of dignity left. But I didn’t.

And now, the pieces were dust.

The hospital door opened and a nurse stepped in, holding a clipboard. “Ms. Reyes, your discharge papers are ready. You can leave today.”

I nodded slowly and sat up, wincing as pain shot through my ribs. Three days ago, Jasmine and I had been walking near the market when two men on a motorcycle snatched the necklace from her neck. The precious necklace that Kevin had given her.

Jasmine screamed. I panicked. And instead of checking if I was okay, Kevin yelled over me, “That necklace cost me a million! Isabella, run after them!”

“What? Why me—”

Rather, he pushed me to run after them while he tended to Jasmine, who was only pretending to be injured. I chased after two men on a motorcycle, slipped on the road, hit my head, bruised my ribs—and ended up in a hospital bed alone. No one came. Not Kevin. Not Jasmine.

When I texted him that I was hurt, he only replied, “Jasmine scraped her knee. I’m busy taking care of her.”

I returned home late that afternoon. The house was quiet. My father, Gregory, sat in the dining room, eating as if nothing had happened.

He didn’t even look up when I entered. “So?” he asked, chewing. “Where’s the necklace?”

I stood still, clutching my bag. “I couldn’t get it back.”

He dropped his spoon with a loud clang. “Useless,” he hissed. “Just like your mother. Why did I even take you in after she died? Should’ve left you with that weakling stepfather of yours.”

I said nothing.

“Go to your room. Don’t eat tonight. Or the rest of the week. You lost me a million-peso investment. Starve, maybe it’ll teach you something.”

I swallowed hard. Then I heard their voices. Kevin and Jasmine entered from the garden, arms linked until they saw me. Then they pulled away as if they were strangers.

Jasmine, always with that sweet voice, said, “Father, don’t be so harsh. It’s not Isabella’s fault. But of course… it would’ve been better if she had retrieved it. It was a gift from Kevin.”

Kevin scoffed. “She’s weak. That’s the problem. I mean, I’m married to her—on paper—but I’ve never introduced her to anyone. I’m ashamed.”

Jasmine giggled. “Kevin, don’t say that. She’s still my sister.”

Gregory snorted. “Yes, but the wrong one. Useless.”

I didn’t respond. What was there left to say? I’d been reduced to a ghost in my own home.

I walked past them without a word, up to my room. I closed the door, slid down to the floor, and finally allowed myself to cry. And then I made the call.

“Yes, I want a divorce,” I told the lawyer over the phone.

There was a pause. “Are you certain, Mrs. Reyes? We spoke before and—”

“I’m sure,” I said.

“You’ll need his signature. You know how difficult he can be.”

“I’ll handle it,” I said. “Just prepare the papers and I’ll make sure he will sign it.”

What I didn’t know was that Kevin was standing right outside my door.

“Paper? Sign? What are you saying?” he yelled.