The Day I Stopped Loving Him

The hospital never truly rested. Even in the dead of night, it remained alive. Monitors beeped in uneven intervals, IV drips clicked softly in the background, and the sharp scent of antiseptic lingered in the air no matter how long someone stayed there. Juliet Collins had long since stopped counting the nights she’d spent trapped in that place. Some things were easier not to measure. She lay still beneath the dim lights, eyes half-open as she stared blankly at the ceiling above her. As always, it stared back in silence. Her body felt strangely hollow, not light in a comforting way, but like pieces of her were slowly disappearing one after another without permission. “I'm sorry ma’am, but you have stage four stomach cancer… there’s nothing more we can do.” Once, those words had shattered her. Now they simply existed like background noise, or rain falling against a window. An unchangeable part of her everyday life no matter how much she wished otherwise. Beside her bed, a chair creaked quietly. “You’re awake again.” The familiar voice was gentle. Juliet didn’t need to look to know who it belonged to, but she turned her head anyway, carefully, almost cautiously, as though any sudden movement might snap her apart. Katie sat beside the bed with the same calm expression as always. Of course she was there. Same oversized black sweater. Same composed gaze. Same posture that somehow managed to feel neither distant nor intrusive. Just present. “I wasn’t sleeping,” Juliet murmured weakly. Katie hummed softly. “You hardly sleep anymore.” There was no criticism in her tone. No pity either. Just quiet observation. That was the thing about Katie. She never forced conversations. She simply stayed in the empty spaces Juliet couldn’t bear alone. She had done that ever since they’d shared a dorm during college, and later through the five years they worked together. Katie leaned forward slightly and adjusted the blanket over Juliet’s legs with practiced care. “How’s the pain today?” she asked quietly. “Any different from yesterday?” Juliet thought about lying for a second, but there was no point. Dying wasn’t exactly something she could hide anymore. She gave a faint shrug. “It never really leaves.” Katie nodded slowly, as though she understood the parts Juliet didn’t say aloud. She always did that too. Silence settled between them again. Outside the window, New York shimmered faintly beneath the night sky. The city carried on as though nothing had changed. Lights stretched into blurry streaks of white and gold through Juliet’s tired vision. She hated looking outside. Not because it reminded her that life kept moving without her. That truth had already settled in long ago. No, what she hated was the reflection staring back from the glass. Her cheeks were sunken in, her skin had lost almost all its color and her lips were always dry and cracked. Tubes threaded into her arms like roots draining away whatever life she had left. After a while, Juliet finally spoke. “Do you think people can disappear before they actually die?” Katie blinked once. “That’s a strange question.” “I mean…” Juliet hesitated. “What if someone’s still alive, but everything that made them who they were is already fading away?” Katie didn’t answer immediately. The pause lingered longer than usual. Then she said softly, “You’re overthinking again.” A response Juliet knew well. Once, it had comforted her. Tonight, though, it felt strangely empty. She turned her head slightly. “I called my husband again earlier.” For the briefest moment, Katie’s hands stilled against the blanket. Tiny. Almost impossible to notice. But Juliet noticed. “And?” Katie asked without meeting her eyes. “He didn’t answer.” Katie exhaled quietly. “Maybe he’s busy.” Juliet let out a hollow laugh. Not bitter. Not amused. Just tired. “Busy,” she repeated softly. “For three days straight?” Katie didn’t respond, instead, she picked up the water bottle beside the bed and handed it over. “You need to drink something,” she said. “You’re dehydrated.” Juliet stared at the bottle before looking back at her. “Why do you always do that?” Katie frowned slightly. “Do what?” “Avoid the question.” For half a second, Katie froze. Her dark eyes lifted to meet Juliet’s. Then came that familiar controlled smile again. “I’m trying to take care of you.” she said. Juliet accepted the bottle but didn’t drink immediately. Her gaze drifted back toward the window. “I had a dream earlier,” she said quietly. Katie leaned back in the chair. “What kind of dream?” “I was outside,” Juliet murmured. “Walking around normally. Breathing without pain. No machines. No tubes.” A faint smile crossed Katie’s face. “Sounds peaceful.” Juliet tightened her fingers around the bottle. “It wasn’t.” That made Katie pause again. “In the dream…” Juliet swallowed slowly. “I think I was already dead.” Something in the room shifted. Not dramatically. Just enough to be felt. Katie straightened slightly. “Juliet—” “I was watching myself,” Juliet continued softly. “Like I was there and not there at the same time. Like the world had already removed me from it.” She finally took a sip of water. Slow. Careful. Katie studied her quietly before speaking again. “You’re exhausted,” she said gently. “Your mind’s playing tricks on you.” Juliet nodded faintly. But deep down, she didn’t believe that. Because it hadn’t felt like a dream. It had felt organized. Precise. Almost like remembering something instead of imagining it. A knock interrupted the silence. A nurse stepped inside holding a clipboard. “Ms. Juliet Collins?” she asked politely. Juliet nodded weakly. “We still need your guardian to clear the outstanding hospital payment,” the nurse explained carefully. “Otherwise we may have to suspend treatment temporarily.” Juliet closed her eyes for a moment, then slowly opened them again. “My husband will handle it,” she said automatically. The nurse hesitated before quietly leaving the room. Silence returned once more. Katie shifted closer to the bed. “You should try to rest.” Juliet didn’t answer right away. Instead, she asked quietly, “Why are you always here?” Katie blinked. “What do you mean?” “You have your own life,” Juliet said. “Your own responsibilities. But you spend more time here than anyone else.” Katie smiled faintly. “Because you’re my best friend.” Her best friend. Juliet repeated the word silently in her mind. It wasn’t wrong yet somehow… it felt incomplete. She watched Katie carefully, the way she dodged certain questions. The way she always appeared before Juliet even asked for her. The way nothing ever seemed to surprise her. Katie slowly stood from the chair. “I’ll go get you something warm,” she said. “You’re freezing.” Juliet gave a faint nod.