1 I ended up in the hospital after a car accident. A text message from my boyfriend, Alex, popped up on my phone by mistake. [My little princess, are you satisfied with your uncle's photography skills?] Attached was a photo of a young girl in a princess dress, surrounded by 999 dazzling red roses. Before I could get a closer look, the message was retracted. [Sorry, Stella. Sent that to the wrong person.] I stared at the screen. The messages I’d sent him two hours ago, frantically telling him about the accident, were still sitting there, unanswered. Suddenly, I just felt tired. So incredibly tired. [It's okay.] You won't have the chance to make that mistake again. … Alex's call came through a second later. His voice was as gentle as ever. "Stella, are you about done with work? I'm almost at your office." "I brought you that dessert you've been craving. I waited in line for over forty minutes. And I got your favorite flowers." "What do you want for dinner tonight? I'll cook for you. I've been practicing that sweet and sour fish you mentioned." He chattered on, his voice a soft, familiar melody that now felt like a thousand tiny needles piercing my ears. He noticed my silence. "Stella? Are you mad at me?" he asked, his tone shifting to one of gentle persuasion. He chuckled softly. "Don't overthink it. It's been a month since Maya got her kitten. She insisted I come over to celebrate, said it wouldn't be a proper party without me." "You're always so busy with work, so I didn't want to bother you. I'll have her apologize to you later." "You know how young girls are, with their quirky little rituals. Not like us..." I couldn't listen to another word. "Alex, I was in a car accident," I said, cutting him off. "I'm at the hospital." The voice on the other end went silent. Then, a rush of frantic sound, his breathing ragged. "Which hospital? Are you badly hurt? Any broken bones? I'm on my way. Why didn't you tell me?" My voice was flat, devoid of emotion, as if I were talking about a stranger. "Two hours ago, I sent you seven messages and called you twice. You didn't answer." Alex was stunned. "What? That's impossible. I always reply to you instantly…" He trailed off. We both realized what had happened at the same time. After a moment of charged silence, his apologetic voice came through. "I'm so sorry, Stella. I was picking up the 'anniversary' cake for the kitten when you messaged. I didn't have my phone on me." "Maya deleted the notifications. I had no idea you were in an accident." Stella, don't be mad at her. I asked Maya about it. She didn't mean any harm. Don't stoop to a child's level. It was the same old excuse, a line I had heard so many times it had lost all meaning. The initial searing pain had long since faded into a dull, numb ache. "What if I had died?" My voice was a whisper. "What if I had died in that accident today? Would you still be excusing her behavior, telling me she's just a child who doesn't know any better?" Dead silence on the other end. My heart, heavy as lead, sank to the pit of my stomach. I hung up. The tears I hadn't shed at the scene of the crash finally came, hot and silent. My office wasn't far from the hospital. Alex must have run every red light because he burst into my room less than fifteen minutes later. He was holding a bouquet of white lisianthus, but they might as well have been the crimson roses from the photo for how much they stung my eyes. "Stella, how are you? Let me see where you're hurt." His face was a mask of guilt and concern, and it looked genuine. "I'm so sorry, Stella. I'm late." He sat on the edge of the bed and reached for my hand. The moment his fingers brushed mine, I pulled away. His hand froze in mid-air. He quickly recovered, his voice smooth. "Stella, I'm sorry. Maya was in the wrong." "I apologize on her behalf. She's just a child." "When you're out of the hospital, how about I take you to Iceland to see the Northern Lights?" Seeing the Northern Lights in Iceland. That was the New Year's wish Alex had shared with me four years ago. Amidst a sky of exploding fireworks, he told me that "aurora" was Latin for "dawn," and that his love for me had dawned in a moment just like this. But the very next day, his niece, Maya, broke her leg and demanded that he stay with her through her physical therapy. The trip to Iceland never happened. When I didn't respond, he leaned closer. "I promise, Maya won't cause any trouble this time. I'll make sure of it." The old me would have taken the olive branch. But I had compromised so many times that I had almost forgotten the woman I used to be—decisive, unyielding, a woman who didn't tolerate excuses. "So it's settled then. You won't hold it against her…" "No." "I'm not willing." I looked up, meeting his eyes, and enunciated each word with cold precision. He was taken aback by my refusal. A flicker of annoyance crossed his face. "Stella, it's not like you were seriously injured. Why are you making such a big deal out of this? Maya didn't mean any harm. Can't you just let it go for the sake of peace?" My gaze was sharp, unblinking. "You know exactly what she meant." 2 His expression didn't change, but his eyes darted away, unable to meet mine. "We're just uncle and niece." I wasn't sure if he was trying to convince me or himself. A laugh, sharp and humorless, escaped my lips. "Alex, I'm not an idiot." Even a fool would have figured it out after six years. Alex and I got together when we were twenty-two. We were the golden couple of our university, admired by everyone. For the first two years, his devotion was boundless. He remembered every little thing I liked, catered to my every whim. He learned to cook just for me, showered me with gifts and flowers. He was my rock, my shield. "It's okay, Stella. Just leave it to me." His words, his actions—they built a fortress of love and trust around my heart. When I was twenty-six, he proposed and took me to meet his family. His parents had passed away when he was young, and he had been raised by his older brother. That was the first time I met Maya. I handed her the gift I had bought, but she threw it on the floor and stomped on it without a second glance. In front of everyone, she threw her arms around Alex's neck. "Uncle Alex, I'm going to marry you when I grow up! Make this bad woman leave our house!" The adults chuckled at her "childish innocence." I stood there, mortified, unable to say a word. At twenty-eight, I was finally walking down the aisle. That day became the stuff of nightmares. Maya, then sixteen, crashed the wedding with a group of her friends. She held a fruit knife to her wrist. "Uncle Alex, tell me," she screamed, "what's more important? My life, or marrying this woman?" The answer was obvious. He spent the next two weeks by her side in the hospital. My carefully planned wedding was ruined. He spent the next two months trying to placate me. "Stella, we're just relatives. She's too young to understand the difference between familial love and romantic love. She'll grow out of it." So I clung to that explanation, that reassurance. I told myself it was true. Until a week ago. A photo of Maya, now twenty, kissing another boy, was sent to Alex's phone. We were in the middle of a rare, intimate moment. He saw the message. It was the first time I had ever seen him so angry. His face was a thundercloud as he pushed me away and stormed out of the house, ignoring my tearful pleas. That night, I finally learned the truth. Alex and Maya were not related by blood. She was adopted. And he had known all along. He had never once discouraged her affections. Instead, he used their "familial" bond as an excuse. For six years. My eyes burned. The foundation of my self-reassurance crumbled, the lie a slap across my face. His voice, when he finally spoke of it, was calm. "Even if she's adopted, we can only ever be uncle and niece." "The one I love is you." "It's Stella." I looked at him for a long time, struggling to reconcile this man with the earnest, twenty-two-year-old boy I had fallen in love with. Finally, I turned my head away. "Alex, we're done." 3 He looked surprised for a moment, then dismissed my words. I had tried to break up with him after the wedding disaster, but he had always managed to win me back. He probably thought I was just angry. "Stella," he said, a half-joking tone in his voice, "you can't just leave me. We've been married for six years." "I won't agree to a divorce." Just then, his phone rang with the cheerful, custom ringtone he had set for Maya. He answered, and after a few brief words, he stood up, heading for the door. "Stella, Maya's kitten seems to be dying. I have to go check on it." "I'll have Mrs. Gable come and take care of you. Get some rest. Don't overthink things." I heard the door click shut and curled up under the blankets. But Alex, we were never married. We had planned to get our marriage license the day after the wedding. But after Maya's dramatic scene, my wedding became a joke. Everyone was fussing over her, and the license was forgotten. Later, whenever I tried to bring it up, Maya would always find a reason to drag him away. But because of that wedding, everyone called me Mrs. Hayes. Over time, even Alex seemed to forget that we were never legally married. I called my best friend, Jessica. She was at my door in less than fifteen minutes, out of breath. "Stella, are you okay? Does it hurt? Where are you injured?" "Where's Alex? He's not here even after you've been in an accident?" "Don't tell me he's with that niece of his again." The moment I saw her, the dam of my emotions broke. I buried my face in her shoulder and sobbed. Jessica cursed Alex's name and was ready to go hunt him down. I shook my head, grabbing her arm. "I broke up with him." She froze for a second, then hugged me tight. "Good. We don't need a man with no boundaries like him." For the next few days, Jessica took time off work to take care of me. Alex never showed up. But I saw his activities plastered all over Maya's social media. Her kitten had died. To cheer her up, he took her street racing, protected her in a crowded nightclub, and carried her home on his back when she got drunk. I clicked on a photo, momentarily blinded by the club's flashing lights. I remembered a conversation we had years ago. He told me he hated clubs, hated the chaotic mix of people. But for Maya, he was willing to go to the places he despised most. A message from Maya popped up on my screen. [Poor you. No one to keep you company even after a car crash.] [I don't know what an old woman like you has that I don't. You should know when to back off.] I ignored her message, blocked both her and Alex, and deleted their numbers. When Maya realized she'd been blocked, she came to the hospital the next day. 4 She was dressed in a flamboyant red dress, looking down at me with undisguised provocation. "Stella, how have you been?" "I've been having a great time, by the way." She sat down by my bed. "Alex hasn't visited you once, has he?" I stared at her coldly. "What do you want?" "Nothing. I just feel a little sorry for you, so I brought Alex to see you today." Her voice dripped with the smug superiority of someone who knows they are favored. She sighed dramatically. "You know, why don't you just die like your mother did? What's the point of living if you can't even keep a man..." My vision went red. In an instant, I slapped her across the face. Before I could say anything else, the door swung open. "Stella, don't go too far!" Alex, holding takeout containers, stepped in front of Maya, shielding her. "Maya came here to apologize to you. You can't just hit her for no reason!" I laughed, a sharp, bitter sound. "No reason? Do you have any idea what she just said?" "Uncle Alex, it's okay. It was my fault," Maya interrupted, her voice trembling. A look of disappointment crossed Alex's face. I tried to explain. "She started it—" But he wasn't listening. "Stella, I thought you were a mature, understanding woman. But you can't even tolerate a child." "You should think about what you've done." With that, he turned and left with Maya, leaving me alone in the room. It felt like my chest was stuffed with cotton, making it hard to breathe. Over the next week, I received photos of Alex and Maya from unknown numbers. One was a selfie of Maya, with a sleeping Alex in the background. Each photo felt like a piece of my heart being carved out. The first thing I did after being discharged was go home to pack my bags. If you can't fix the source of the pain, you cut it out completely. As I was packing, Alex called. It had been a while. "Stella, why did you block me on social media?" "Are you still mad? Don't be so petty." "I'm coming home tonight. I'll make you that sweet and sour fish, okay?" "No, thank you," I said, my voice flat. "We've already broken up." "Who's been taking care of you? Mrs. Gable didn't come? Why didn't you tell me?" "What's the point? We both know who stopped her from coming." He was silent for a few seconds, then his voice took on that familiar, exasperated tone. "Don't throw tantrums and talk about breaking up, Stella. Be good." "Wait for me to come home and make it up to you." I didn't reply. I hung up and blocked his number. Then, I grabbed my suitcase and walked out of the home I had lived in for six years without a backward glance. 5 Alex arrived home at eight o'clock, with Maya in tow. She had been whining for Mrs. Gable's cooking, and he had given in. "Stella?" "Stella? I'm home." The house was silent. He had expected her to greet him with a cheerful voice. He chuckled to himself. She was acting just like she did when they were younger, giving him the silent treatment when she was mad. "Stella, come on out." He checked every room, even the storage closet, but she was nowhere to be found. A sense of unease began to creep into his heart. He grabbed Mrs. Gable, who was about to start cooking. "Where's my wife?" Mrs. Gable sighed. "Madam left with her suitcase this morning." "Sir, did you make her angry again?" Alex froze, then quickly pulled out his phone. The call went straight to voicemail. His heart started to pound. "Mrs. Gable, why didn't you stop her? She's been in a bad mood lately, throwing a tantrum and threatening to break up with me." "Now that she's gone, I can't even try to make it up to her." Before Mrs. Gable could reply, Maya burst out laughing, her voice filled with excitement. "What? That woman finally broke up with you?!" She ran over and grabbed his arm, her face beaming. "Alex, you can finally be with me!" He wasn't in the mood for her games. He pulled his arm away. "Stop it. Stella and I are husband and wife. I'm not divorcing her." Maya's smile was sickeningly sweet. "Divorce? Alex, you and Stella were never married." He stared at her, uncomprehending. "What are you talking about? We had a wedding…" He trailed off as a horrifying realization dawned on him. His face went pale.
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