Dumped and Divorced, Renew to be Exclusive

Liora The steady beep of the hospital monitor was the only sound in the sterile white room. I blinked awake, the taste of saline still heavy on my tongue. My IV bag hung limp and empty beside me. For a moment, I just stared at it the thin tube, the clear tape on my wrist and wondered how long I’d been lying there alone. Ken wasn’t in the chair by the window. Neither was Karl. Just the faint smell of disinfectant and the afternoon light cutting across the white tile. I reached for my phone, my fingers stiff from the cold air conditioning. There were no messages from Ken, no missed calls, not even a short text asking how I was doing. He had promised to stay until the doctor cleared me for discharge. But promises had started to mean less and less lately. I pressed the call button. The ringing felt endless before his familiar voice finally came through. “Ken?” There was laughter in the background. A woman’s laughter. I froze. “Where are you?” I asked softly, trying to sound casual. “Oh, uh grabbing something to eat with Karl,” he said quickly. “You were asleep. Didn’t want to wake you.” Something about his tone set off a quiet alarm in my chest. Then, through the receiver, I heard a woman’s voice light, teasing talking about how delicious the signature dishes were at some restaurant. The line went dead before I could say another word. I sat still for a moment, staring at the phone in my hand. A slow, familiar ache spread through me disappointment wrapped in disbelief. I shouldn’t be surprised, I told myself. Ken had been slipping away from me for a long time now, step by silent step. But it still hurt. I pulled off the hospital gown and changed into my clothes. My head spun a little, but the need to see him to see for myself was stronger than any dizziness. Outside, the sun felt too bright. I flagged a taxi, clutching my coat around me even though it wasn’t cold. The ride passed in silence, the driver humming faintly to some song on the radio. I stared out the window, watching the streets blur past. My chest tightened as the restaurant came into view. And there they were. Through the wide glass windows, I saw Ken, Karl, and her. Helen. The woman who had once been just a name from his past a story I’d heard with forced smiles and gentle curiosity. She had returned three months ago, and since then, she seemed to appear everywhere at charity events, at Karl’s skiing lessons, even at our weekend gatherings. Always “by coincidence.” Always charming, graceful, warm. And now, there she was, laughing with my husband and son as if she belonged with them. I stood frozen on the sidewalk, my fingers tightening around my bag. Karl’s laughter rang out, loud and carefree, and my heart twisted. He hadn’t laughed like that with me in months. Lately, every time I tried to plan something with him, he had an excuse Daddy promised to take me there, Helen said she’d teach me that. I stepped inside. The sound of the doorbell above the entrance sliced through their laughter. Ken’s face went pale. Helen, on the other hand, smiled as though nothing was wrong. “Liora! What a surprise!” she said brightly, waving me over. “You’re looking much better! We were just talking about Karl’s next ski lesson.” Her tone was perfectly polite almost too polished. “I can see that,” I said, forcing a smile that didn’t reach my eyes. “Seems you’ve all been having quite a time.” Ken shifted uncomfortably. “Liora, you should’ve called before coming out. You’re not supposed to be up yet.” “I did call,” I said quietly. “But you were busy.” Helen gave a light laugh. “Oh, don’t blame him we just ran into each other here! Total coincidence.” Of course it was. I bit the inside of my cheek and turned to Karl. “Sweetheart, are you ready to go home?” He didn’t even look at me. “Can we stay a little longer, Mom? Helen’s showing me some skiing tricks! She says if I practice them, I might be good enough for the junior competition.” My pulse skipped. “Helen’s your skiing instructor?” I turned sharply to Ken. “You never told me that.” Ken rubbed the back of his neck. “I didn’t think it mattered.” “Didn’t matter?” The words came out sharper than I intended. “She’s your ex, Ken.” Helen blinked innocently. “Oh, that was ages ago. You don’t mind, do you, Liora? It’s just skiing.” I stared at her the soft waves of her hair, the effortless confidence in her posture and felt something inside me wilt. I could see the looks from other tables, the pity, the curiosity. Ken leaned closer, lowering his voice. “Let’s not do this here. We’ll talk at home.” “Right,” I said bitterly. “At home. Where we never actually talk.” His jaw tightened. Helen reached for her wineglass, pretending not to notice the tension, though her eyes gleamed. I turned to Karl again. “I’ll wait in the car,” I said softly. “If you’re done soon.” But he just shook his head. “You can go ahead. Dad said we’re getting dessert.” It shouldn’t have hurt as much as it did that small, innocent rejection. But it did. I nodded, swallowing hard, and walked out of the restaurant before my voice could betray me. Outside, the air hit me like a wall. The city noises blurred the honk of a horn, the chatter of pedestrians, the hum of life moving forward while mine stood still. I pressed a hand to my chest, feeling the dull ache that had settled there long before today. Ken had stopped looking at me the way he used to. Stopped asking how my day was. Stopped remembering the little things my favorite tea, the book I’d been reading, the way I used to fall asleep on his shoulder during late-night movies. Somewhere between raising Karl and keeping our lives running, I had lost the version of me he once loved. And Karl… my sweet boy. He was slipping too laughing louder with his father, quiet and distant with me. I tried not to blame him. He was just a child. But it felt like the universe was quietly rewriting the story of my own family, and I was being erased line by line. A sharp wave of dizziness pulled me out of my thoughts. My vision tilted the sidewalk swaying beneath my feet. I reached for the nearest wall, my body suddenly weightless, weak. Then strong arms caught me before I fell. “Liora?” The sound of my name spoken like a memory hit me square in the chest. I looked at the man who was holding me up. The familiar curve of his jaw, the faint scar near his temple, the way his eyes gray, steady, impossibly kind hadn’t changed at all. “Ezra?” I breathed. He smiled faintly, the corner of his mouth lifting with a hint of disbelief. “It’s been a long time.” And in that quiet space between one heartbeat and the next, something inside me shifted. I didn’t know why he was here, or how fate had brought him back into my life at this exact moment the moment everything else seemed to be falling apart. But as he steadied me, his hand still resting lightly against my back, I realized that for the first time in months, I didn’t feel entirely alone.