I’m Done Being Your Rock

When I saw the gift box on the table, I thought Stella Stafford had finally gotten the hint.

Especially when I realized there was a pair of professional wrist braces inside, I was so touched I nearly cried.

A week earlier, I'd gently mentioned to Stella that I wanted a pair.

Years of soaking my hands in cold dishwater during the day and mixing drinks nonstop at night had left my wrists severely damaged.

However, I couldn't bring myself to spend money on a doctor. All I wanted was a pair of wrist braces to ease some of the strain on my hands.

Stella had frowned. "You need wrist braces for the kind of work you do?

"Colin, there are still so many things we need to spend money on for the studio. If it's not necessary, we should save the money."

Her words had upset me for a long time. I never imagined Stella would secretly buy me a pair for our seventh wedding anniversary.

But when I opened the gift box and read the card inside, my smile froze.

Only a few short lines were written on it:

Landon,

Thank you for working day and night to help with this exhibition. I heard that you injured your hand while moving the paintings, so I had these wrist braces custom-made for you. I hope you recover soon.

—Stella

I stared at the card for a long time without moving.

The wrist braces had been made specifically to fit Landon's wrists, and I could tell from the material alone that they had cost a fortune.

Landon Palmer was Stella's personal assistant.

For years, he'd handled everything related to her exhibitions, from transporting paintings and setting up exhibition spaces to contacting galleries. He'd been by her side for nearly every important exhibition of her career.

As I watched the two of them grow closer, I once tried to tell Stella, as tactfully as I could, that their relationship bothered me.

She'd stared at me as if I were a child throwing a unreasonable tantrum.

"I spend every day creating, choosing subjects, revising my work, communicating with galleries, arranging exhibitions, handling publicity and transportation…

"I could never manage all of that on my own, but Landon takes care of everything for me."

She paused, the corner of her mouth lifting in faint mockery.

"Or should I fire him and have you do it instead?"

I opened my mouth, but not a single word come out. My face burned with humiliation.

Her words were like a bucket of cold water, leaving my heart numb with cold. She had never actually said it outright, yet the contempt behind her words had hurt me for a long time.

I tried to convince myself that Stella was simply overworked and needed someone who truly understood art to help her.

After all, I was still her husband.

But today, when I saw the wrist braces made to Landon's measurements, I finally realized that I meant nothing to her.

I set them down as a profound weariness washed over me. Seven years of devotion crumbled in that moment.

It was time to let go.

After finalizing the details of the divorce agreement with Gregory Hicks, I heard the door and Stella walked in. She clearly hadn't expected to find me standing in the living room.

"You're not working today? Won't they dock your pay again?"

My heart clenched. So this was all I was to Stella now—a tool whose sole purpose was to earn money for her.

Just last week, I'd reminded her again and again not to make any plans for today. I'd prepared something special for our seventh anniversary.

But now it was obvious she'd forgotten all about it.

Perhaps I looked upset, because Stella softened her voice.

"It's fine. Taking a day off once in a while isn't a big deal."

She pulled out two cruise tickets and held them out to me.

"I promised I'd take you to Norhaven to see the Northern Lights. I've already booked the tickets. We leave in three days, so remember to take time off."

I stared blankly at the tickets, and my frozen heart seemed to start beating again.

She had actually remembered a wish I'd mentioned only once. For someone as emotionally distant as Stella, that was incredibly rare.

So Stella did still love me...

Did I really want to leave her?

As I hesitated, Stella's phone rang. She glanced at the screen, and her expression thawed like melting snow. A faint smile appeared on her face—one I'd never seen before.

"Stella, where are you? We're all waiting for you! We're celebrating you being shortlisted for the International Young Artist Award!"

Landon's cheerful voice came through the phone.

The corners of Stella's lips curved upward. “Don't worry. I'm on my way.”

As she walked past me, she paused.

A flicker of hope rose inside me.

Stella had dreamed of being shortlisted for this award for years, and now she had finally received the recognition she had longed for. Surely she would want me by her side at such an important celebration.

But she only glanced at me. "Don't wait up for me tonight. I might be back late."