The Day I Stopped Loving My CEO Husband

I looked up at him.

It was still the same familiar face—but it felt like I was staring at a stranger.

Dirty tricks.

So that’s how he saw me now.

Four years of dating, three years of marriage and still I couldn’t compete with a secretary he’d only known for two years.

The seven-year itch… maybe it really was inevitable.

For a moment, I actually felt like laughing. But my abdomen—still sore from the surgery—twisted in pain, waves of it brought on by the emotional strain.

Maybe my face had gone too pale, because Daniel suddenly softened his voice. His eyes dropped to my stomach.

“That’s not what I meant,” he said. “Since you’re tired, you don’t have to prepare the medicinal soup. You’re pregnant now, so you should be resting more. I only asked Elena to assist you because I didn’t want you overworking yourself.”

He straightened up slightly and added, “I know today is your birthday, so I got you a gift.”

He pushed a gift box toward me. I opened it, my face blank.

It was empty.

His expression stiffened. For a split second, he looked helpless, like he’d just remembered something.

“You know Elena’s family isn’t well off. She didn’t want to be embarrassed at the banquet, so I lent her the necklace. I’ll have her return it tomorrow.”

He waved it off with a shrug.

“It’s just a small thing. Don’t be so petty.”

His words stabbed into me like needles—each one sharper than the last.

It hurt, yes.

But more than that, it woke me up.

I didn’t even look at the box again. Instead, I pushed the divorce agreement across the table toward him.

“Daniel, let’s get a divorce. I’ve already signed the papers. I’m not asking for a single penny.”

“Not just one Product Manager—go ahead, give the whole company to Elena if you want. I won’t say a word.”

Daniel froze.

Then, as if struggling to suppress his rising frustration, he took a deep breath and tried a gentler tone.

“If you don’t want that necklace, I’ll buy you another one. What do you want? Jewelry? A car? A house?”

He stepped forward and grabbed my wrist tightly, his voice laced with warning.

“Kayla, I’m exhausted. I don’t have the energy to keep guessing what kind of games you’re playing. Don’t push me.”

There was no warmth in his eyes now.

Only cold calculation—like he was negotiating with a client, not speaking to his wife.

But I remembered, years ago, when he had nothing—just a young man in a rented apartment, clinging to me like I was his only hope, swearing he’d give me a better life.

I took a deep breath and swallowed the bitterness.

“Why do you think everything can be solved with money?”

“Daniel, I never asked you for anything. It’s you who never respected my hard work. You didn’t respect my feelings. You didn’t respect my love.”

“So let’s divorce.”

His face hardened, his voice dipping into a low growl.

“You’re serious? Just because I helped her avoid drinking tonight?”

“Is it necessary to make such a big deal?”

“At the banquet, you walked out halfway through—I didn’t say a word. I got drunk and Elena brought me home. You’ve been picking fights ever since. What more do you want from me?”

He looked at my stomach again, then exhaled, annoyed.

“I get that you’re sensitive because of the pregnancy. Haven’t I been taking good care of you? Can’t you try to understand me for once? I’m working hard so you can have a better life.”

Even now, he didn’t understand.

He never understood.

I turned away and calmly pulled my wrist out of his grip.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ve already had an abortion.”

“I can live just fine on my own.”

“You what?” His face flushed with rage. He grabbed my chin roughly, forcing me to look at him.

“Have you forgotten how cruel the real world is just because you’ve been living too comfortably? Kayla, what can you even do without me?”

After a few tense seconds, he let go of my chin and gave a final warning, his voice low and ice-cold.

“You’re not eighteen anymore. Stop being so childish. If you ever try to use the baby to threaten me again, I won’t hold back.”

He stormed off, stepping onto the balcony as his phone rang.

The man who’d just threatened me with such cruelty now spoke in a soft, coaxing voice on the call—comforting the woman on the other end, telling her not to worry.

I touched my chin. It was still red from where he’d gripped it.

I felt nothing now—no sadness, no fury. Just… numb.

All this over a drink with his secretary?

On the surface, it seemed like a ridiculous reason to divorce.

But I knew the truth better than anyone.

He treated that girl like a fragile treasure, shielding her with everything he had.

Even the staff joked that Mr. Murphy had finally found true love.

What a joke.

Because once upon a time, when I was eighteen—I was his true love, too.