The Year I Stopped Being His novel Chapter 150

The air in the cramped, rundown apartment grew deathly quiet, as if someone had hit pause on reality itself.

The little tortoiseshell cat finished its food, sauntered over, and affectionately rubbed against Lexi's ankles.

Lexi looked down and gently scratched the cat behind its ears.

Garrison dragged in a ragged breath, fighting violently to stabilize his voice and make himself sound somewhat composed. "Lexi, do you know if Sloane has been... dealing with any health issues lately?"

Lexi's hand froze.

She looked up at Garrison, a flicker of genuine confusion crossing her face.

"Health issues?"

"Yes."

Lexi furrowed her brow, visibly digging through her memories.

"Now that you mention it..." she began slowly. "Over the past few months, she did complain about chronic migraines. There was one time we were out to dinner, and she took two bites before sprinting to the bathroom to throw up. She claimed it was just a stomach bug. And there was another time—"

Her voice dropped ominously.

"Another time, she was home alone and apparently passed out completely. She didn't even tell me. I only found out because her neighbor mentioned it. When I asked her if she had gone to the hospital, she brushed it off, saying it was just low blood sugar and nothing to worry about."

Lexi's gaze suddenly sharpened, locking onto Garrison like a hawk.

"Dr. Foster, why are you asking me this? Did something happen to Sloane?"

Garrison stared back at her. He opened his mouth, but the horrifying truth flat-out refused to leave his throat.

"It's nothing," he finally lied, averting his gaze.

Lexi scrutinized him for several intense seconds but decided not to push it.

She crouched down, gave the cat one last affectionate pat, then stood up and grabbed her purse.

"I'm leaving."

She made it to the door before abruptly stopping in her tracks.

"Oh, right," she said, turning back and digging a small, palm-sized box out of her purse before shoving it into his chest. "I almost forgot. Sloane gave this to me. She told me if I ever ran into you, I should give it to you."

"She said... consider it her final closure."

Lexi forcefully pressed the box into his hand, turned on her heel, and walked out.

Garrison's mind buzzed with deafening static. He vaguely remembered that before they moved into the main estate, back before Quinn had entered the picture, she used to call his name with that exact, breathless devotion.

But then... at some unknown point in their marriage, that affection vanished entirely, replaced by cold formality.

Five years ago... they had just gotten married. Archie hadn't even been born yet. And today, exactly five years ago, was his birthday.

But why... why hadn't she given him the watch on his birthday back then?

Why...

Why the hell hadn't she given it to him?!

The next second, a repressed memory detonated in his brain like a tactical strike: Fresh flowers, a sprawling beach, a massive party, a towering cake, flowing champagne, twenty-five birthday candles, the keys to a brand-new black sports car, and... a sea of smiling, joyous faces.

His father, his mother, Quinn, his grandmother, his uncle, his cousin, his classmates, his friends...

Hawaii.

On that exact day, his entire family, alongside every single friend and relative he had... flew to Hawaii to throw him a massive 25th birthday bash.

And they had left her entirely alone.