I Stop Caring About You

1.

From the gap in the passenger seat of my husband Vincent's Audi Q7, I pulled out a limited-edition Funko Pop keychain.

A glow-in-the-dark ElevenDthe same one his department intern, Sloane, had hanging from her backpack every day.

Vincent glanced over, casually saying, The surgery was completed too late last night, and I took two interns home along the way. It might have been dropped by someone.

I tossed the keychain into the center console storage, not even looking up. "Fine."

Id met all the interns Vincent supervised. But the only one who liked to sit in the passenger seat was Sloane.

Because of that woman, I had fought with Vincent like a madwoman more times than I could count, and brought up divorce more than once.

After I lost the baby, he was the first to surrender, swearing he would have no more private contact with her.

Seeing my indifference now, Vincent was clearly stunned. After a long pause, he couldn't help but ask:

"You just... don't care at all anymore?"

When I did care, all I got were endless fights, tears that never dried, and a child I could never get back.

Now? I truly didn't care.

...

I didn't answer him.

When we got back to our townhouse in Boston's Beacon Hill, Vincent stopped me at the door. His face was etched with a clear weariness, the kind that went beyond the exhaustion of the operating room.

He stared at me for a long time. "Why?"

I leaned against the doorframe and raised an eyebrow. "Isn't this what you've always wanted?"

Vincent paused, then started explaining again. "Sloane is an intern I'm mentoring. I didn't just give her a ride last night, there was another one too. Don't beD"

He didn't finish.

I completed the sentence for him in my head: Don't always assume the worst about her and me.

He probably felt he'd said too much and sighed.

"I haven't been seeing her privately. I let her sit up front yesterday because she gets carsick."

"She's my intern, and I'm her attending physician. Nothing more."

I said nothing.

Vincent's expression shifted, fatigue and frustration surfacing at the same time.

"Evelyn, what the hell do you want from me?"

I looked at him calmly.

"I don't want anything from you. And you don't have to explain anything to me."

After a beat, I added, "You should give that keychain back to her as soon as possible. Let's not have a repeat of last timeDher showing up at our house in the middle of the night is pretty damn creepy."

2.

Vincents face darkened instantly.

Sloane had shown up at our door in the middle of the night twice.

The first time, she claimed shed left her hospital ID in Vincents car. She came knocking with red-rimmed eyes, and in the end, Vincent drove her home.

Two weeks later, I found a lipstick on Vincent's desk in his study that wasn't mine. Fenty Beauty, a brand I never used.

Vincent said, "Sloane probably dropped it when she came by to get some files."

Then he casually put the lipstick into his own drawer.

I suppressed the strange feeling in my gut and didn't ask a thing.

Sure enough, Sloane rang our doorbell again in the middle of the night.

She smiled and held out her hand to Vincent. "Dr. Hayes, can I have my lipstick back?"

Vincent pulled it from his pocket and handed it to her, his tone flat. "Be more careful next time."

Sloane tilted her head at him, her voice sickeningly sweet. "I will, Dr. Hayes."

The way she acted coy with him was so practiced it looked like shed rehearsed it a hundred times.

I froze on the spot.

That was the first time Vincent and I had a massive fight.

At the end of it, he closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. "Evelyn, not everyone is like you, always overthinking things."

"Sloane isn't like you. She's brilliant, with a bright future ahead of her."

Tears were still clinging to my eyelashes.

I just stared at him, stunned.

And Vincent turned and went back to his study.

DI snapped back from the memory.

Vincent was staring at my face, as if waiting for even the slightest flicker of emotion.

There was none.

My expression remained completely unchanged.

As I turned to go upstairs, his voice followed me, laced with a cautious, probing tone.

"Evelyn, today is our fifth wedding anniversary."

"You remember, right?"

If he hadn't mentioned it, I would have completely forgotten.

Ever since Vincent started mentoring interns, he had the same excuse for every single anniversaryD

Busy.

Last year, I had made a reservation at Boston's No. 9 Park two months in advance and called him, nervous and excited.

It wasn't Vincent who answered.

It was Sloane.

"Mrs. Hayes, Dr. Hayes is still in surgery. Maybe you could call back after he's finished?"

Hearing her voice was like having a bucket of ice water dumped over my head.

Vincent never let anyone touch his phone. Not even me. In our first year of marriage, I once grabbed his phone by mistake to check an email. He didn't say anything, but his face told me everything I needed to know.

I never touched it again after that.

But Sloane could answer his calls directly.

That time, Vincent and I had another huge fight. He slammed the door and left. The elaborate dinner and gift I had prepared sat on the table all night.

I turned towards the stairs.

"I forgot."

3.

Vincents expression froze.

"You forgot?"

I ignored him, went upstairs, and closed the door.

In the middle of the night, a noise downstairs woke me up.

I groggily opened my door, planning to check it out. As I reached the top of the stairs, I heard Sloane's voice.

"I just want to know what I did wrong. Dr. Hayes, did Mrs. Hayes misunderstand something between us?"

"You've been ignoring me, you don't reply to my iMessages."

"If it's because of her... I can go and explain things to her."

By the end, her voice was trembling.

Sloane was the only female intern Vincent had mentored in two years. Maybe because of that, everyone else in the department gave her a little extra attention. Even Vincent seemed to say her name more often than others.

After a long pause, Vincent finally spoke. "It has nothing to do with you. Don't overthink it."

"Really?" Sloane pressed, her voice thick with emotion. "But you've been ignoring me..."

"Yeah."

Sloanes mood flipped instantly. She laughed.

I slowly walked down the stairs.

Just in time to see Sloane throw herself into Vincent's arms, her hands wrapped tightly around his neck.

I glanced over but didn't say a word. I walked past them, into the kitchen, and poured myself a glass of water.

The color drained from Vincent's face. He violently pushed Sloane away.

Sloane frantically wiped her face and said to me, "Mrs. Hayes, it's not what it looks like. I was just so emotionalD"

I tilted my head, a slight smile on my lips. "It's fine."

"I'm tired. Just keep it down."

Sloane's expression froze, and she instinctively looked at Vincent.

After sending Sloane off, Vincent came upstairs to find me.

"Evelyn." He rubbed his forehead. "There's a problem between us. We need to talk."

I smiled slightly. "What do you want to talk about?"

"About Sloane?"

Vincent fell silent.

I sighed, looking at him with an expression so calm it was like I was looking at a stranger.

"Vincent, I don't think there's anything to talk about. She's your intern, your only female intern. It's only natural for you to take extra care of her. I'm not going to get angry over something like this, and you don't need to explain."

I said, "There's nothing to explain. I get it."

Vincent's face turned pale.

Those were the exact words he had said to me, word for word, after one of our many fights about Sloane.

Now, I was serving them right back to him.

He was about to say something else, but his phone rang.

It was Sloane.

Vincent glanced at me, hesitated, but answered it anyway. He put it on speaker.

Sloane was crying on the other end. "Dr. Hayes, a patient's family member is harassing me during my night shift. Can you please come to the hospital? I'm so scared."

Vincent frowned. "Have you called security? Go to the break room and wait. I'll have someone check on you."

He hung up, then dialed another number, gave a few quick instructions, and hung up again.

He looked at me, momentarily speechless.

I spoke first. "If you're that worried, you might as well go yourself."

Vincent was silent for a long time.

"Security can handle it. It wouldn't be appropriate for me to go there alone right now."

I smirked.

The conversation with Vincent didn't continue. He went back to his own room.

I was wide awake.

Half an hour later, I heard the soft click of the front door closing. Then, the garage door opened.

Vincent had gone to Sloane after all.

4.

Lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, I suddenly started laughing.

Vincent and I met in college during a volunteer event. I was the one who pursued him.

We dated for three years, got married right after graduation. The first two years of our marriage were good. After Vincent finished his PhD, he got a position at Massachusetts General Hospital and quickly became a key figure in his department, one of the youngest attendings at the hospital.

He got busier and busier. Every day was either surgery or being on callDI understood all of it. Even when he missed my birthday, Id smile and say it was okay, work was important.

Worried he wouldn't eat properly, I made him lunches and brought them to the hospital whenever I could. After almost a year of this, he suddenly said, "Don't bring them anymore. I can just eat at the hospital cafeteria. You're running around too much, it's exhausting for you."

Later, I found out it was because he had taken on a new female intern named Sloane.

When I asked, he said, "The department chief assigned her to me. It was hard to say no."

I said fine and didn't press further.

Until I noticed Sloane was constantly hovering around Vincent. She was lively, a sweet-talker, and incredibly savvy. Vincent, a man who hated socializing, somehow allowed her to circle him, letting her send him endless texts about trivial things.

After the lipstick incident, I finally exploded.

But Vincent just thought I was making a big deal out of nothing. "Evelyn, she's just an intern. Don't be so sensitive."

Our conflicts grew, our fights became more frequent, and they all revolved around the same nameDSloane.

We even got to the point of scheduling appointments with a divorce lawyer. But we never went through with it.

Vincent wouldn't agree.

During that time, I was a wreck, like a paranoid maniac, constantly checking his phone, demanding to know his whereabouts. If he didn't reply to my iMessages instantly, my mind would run wild.

He took his interns to a medical conference in San Diego. I was at home, nearly going insane sending him iMessages.

Until Sloane sent me a voice message from his phone:

"Mrs. Hayes, Dr. Hayes is in a meeting. He'll get back to you when he's done. I know you're a bit possessive, but you should really pick your moments to have a fit. Could you please stop distracting him for now?"

In that moment, I felt the blood rush to my head. I sent Sloane a string of vile, unspeakable messages.

When Vincent came back, it was another huge fight.

He looked at me with pure disappointment. "Evelyn, what have you become?"

"Do you have any idea the impact of what you said to Sloane? If she decided to share those screenshots, what would the hospital think of me? What would our friends think of you?"

"Did you even think about that?"

Vincent didn't say a word about Sloane crossing a line.

He was convinced I was just being unreasonable.

Until my emotions overwhelmed me and I collapsed.

When I woke up in the hospital, the doctor told meDI had been pregnant.

Thinking of this, I touched my lower abdomen.

It was a shame. I would never have a child of my own now.

Vincent didn't come home until the next morning.

He didn't explain anything. I didn't ask.

Sloane was in the hospital for three days. After she was discharged, she sent Vincent a stream of grateful iMessagesDafter all, for those three days, Vincent had visited her whenever he had a spare moment.

I didn't ask a single word about it. I went about my business, not even sparing Vincent a glance.

He tried to say something several times but never found the words.

After dinner, he stopped me. He said, somewhat hesitantly:

"When she was in the hospital, I was her attending physician. It wouldn't have been right for me not to check on her."

I paused, thinking he was going to say something else, but it was just about that.

I gave a small laugh. "I know. Don't worry, I won't go cause any trouble for her."

"Is there anything else?"

Vincent looked like he couldn't hold it together anymore, his voice trembling slightly.

"Evelyn, enough."

"How much longer are you going to treat me like this?" he said. "You're not the same person you used to be."

The smile vanished from my face.

Vincent looked at me.

"Are you blaming me? I was devastated when we lost the baby, too."

I stared at him coldly.

"Shouldn't I blame you?"

Vincent was speechless.

That day, I fell down the stairs. Vincent, who was almost home, turned his car around to take Sloane home because shed said her "car broke down and she was scared to take a cab alone."

I called him, but he hung up on me mid-sentence.

By the time I got to the hospital, the baby was already gone. The doctor said if I had arrived just a little bit sooner, there might have been a chance.

Then came another blowDthe event had caused too much damage to my body. It would be extremely difficult for me to get pregnant again.

When Vincent found out, he knelt by my hospital bed for two days. Begging me to forgive him.

After I was discharged, he started to change. He cut off all private contact with Sloane outside of work. He would voluntarily show me his phone and tell me exactly where he was going.

But I didn't need it anymore.

I was too tired.

Besides, I had already bought a plane ticket to Seattle.

Without another glance at Vincent, I went upstairs.

The day I left, Vincent's team was at an academic conference out of town. It was being live-streamed. When the camera panned to him, he said one thing:

"I want to thank my wife, Evelyn Hayes."

The comments in the live chat exploded, praising him for being such a devoted family man.

Sloane, standing next to him, had a smile that was a little stiff, but she played along for the rest of the event.

I turned off my phone and went to Logan Airport.

Before boarding, Vincent called.

This would probably be the last time.

The moment I answered, I heard Sloane's cheerful voice on the other end:

"Dr. Hayes, you were amazing! We should really celebrate tonight, don't you think?"

I hung up the phone. And walked down the jet bridge.

Vincent instinctively covered his phone, afraid Evelyn had heard. He hesitated for a moment, then nodded.

Sloane excitedly linked her arm with his. "It's a date, then."

Vincent looked down at his phoneDthe call had been disconnected long ago.

By the time he flew back to Boston.

Sloane rushed into his office, holding a courier envelope.

"Dr... Dr. HayesDa courier from the court just delivered this... It's a petition for divorce."