After I Stopped Loving Him, He Lost His Mind

For a long time, Jack just stood there, tears streaming down his face. His voice cracked as he begged, “Please, don’t do this to me. Don’t be so cruel.”

“There must be a way to save you,” he said, his voice trembling. “I won’t let you suffer like this.”

Mia, who had never liked Jack, remained calm. She looked him in the eye and said,

“If you really want to do what’s best for her, then stay away from her!”

“She’s suffered enough because of you. Let her leave this world in peace. Right now, all you’re doing is making things harder for her.”

After saying that, Mia sat by my bedside and gently wiped away her tears.

Looking out the window, where the autumn leaves were falling, she asked, her voice choked with emotion, “Want to go outside for a bit? I know how much you love watching the leaves.”

She didn’t ask me if I wanted to live. She already knew the answer. If there had been any chance, I would have fought for it.

All she could do now was make my remaining days a little brighter.

For the next two weeks, Mia stayed with me constantly, taking care of everything herself.

She fed me, bathed me–things she joked about, saying, “You’ve got nothing I don’t have. Don’t get any weird ideas!”

But I was afraid she was giving too much of herself, afraid she’d lose control after I was gone.

One day, while she was out buying food, I turned to Jack, who had been standing stiffly in the corner of the room.

In the calmest tone I’d ever used with him, I said, “Jack, I’ve never asked you for anything before. But this is my first and last request: after I’m gone, look after Mia for me. I’m scared she’ll do something stupid.”

Jack stared at me, his eyes filled with disbelief. His voice was hesitant, almost childlike, as he asked,

“What about me? Aren’t you afraid I’ll do something?”

“You won’t,” I said with certainty. “You’ll still have plenty of people after me. She only has me.”

For over a decade, Jack had always been the same–a cold, detached man. Whether it was with Chloe or Emily, he never showed genuine warmth.

I later learned the truth about Chloe and Emily through the leaked videos: their lies, their scheming, their betrayal. Jack had taken them to court without mercy.

But to me, Jack had always been distant. Even now, as he seemed consumed by grief, I knew it wouldn’t last.

After I was gone, he might mourn me for a year. But two, three, five years down the line? He’d forget.

When I first entered the hospital, Jack had asked me why I hadn’t told him sooner.

But I had never tried to hide it. If he had spent even a single day at home, he would have seen the medical reports or noticed the endless pills I was taking.

During those days when I was wasting away, he was busy living happily with Emily in their love nest.

I had called him once to tell him how bad things were getting. His response?

“Stop faking it.”

On the days when my headaches were unbearable, no one was there for me.

“Taylor, how can you be so heartless?”

Jack’s choked voice broke through my thoughts. His familiar scent–his soap, his cologne–filled my nose, stirring a bittersweet nostalgia.

I remembered buying that soap when we’d first gotten married, back when I still dreamed of a happy future with him.

But I hadn’t used it in years.