The Day I Stopped Loving You
My mother-in-law’s final wish was simple—she wanted one last trip to Hawaii, to bask in the warmth of the sun before her time ran out.
But her son, Vincent, didn’t see it that way. He thought I was manipulating her, using her as an excuse to drag him on a vacation he didn’t want.
So, out of spite, he refused to grant her dying wish.
I begged him. Pleaded. Swallowed my pride and all the hurt his accusations brought. After relentless persuasion, he finally relented.
I thought, at last, I could give Lucy the happiness she deserved.
But on the day we were set to leave, Vincent was nowhere to be found.
And that same day, Lucy suffered a heart attack. She passed away with only me by her side—never getting to feel the warmth of the sun on her skin one last time.
And then I saw it.
A picture. Vincent, tagged at a luxury resort with his ex. The caption from her read: Thank you for abandoning your job to take me on this trip. You’re the best.
I didn’t scream. I didn’t cry. I didn’t even confront him.
I just packed my bags and left.
And this time? Vincent found out about the truth and begged me to stay.