Not My Type Anymore, Ex Husband

She woke up to the sound of laughter downstairs.

For a second, she smiled. Maybe they were planning something. Maybe they remembered today was special. She waited for someone to call her down, maybe with a small surprise, even just a “Happy Birthday, Mom.” She waited longer than she should have.

But no one called.

She finally dragged herself out of bed, tied her robe, and walked down the stairs. The scent of pancakes and syrup filled the air. Her stomach growled. She hadn't eaten since lunch yesterday.

When she stepped into the kitchen, the scene froze her.

Her husband, Caleb, stood at the stove flipping pancakes. Their daughter, Naomi, was seated at the dining table with her fiancé, laughing over something on his phone.

“Morning,” she said softly.

No one looked up.

She cleared her throat and tried again. “Morning.”

Caleb finally turned, his brow furrowed. “You couldn’t wait five more minutes? We’re having a breakfast celebration for Mason. He got a promotion.”

She blinked. “Oh… I didn’t know.”

Naomi rolled her eyes. “Obviously, Mom. You’re always out of touch. Mason made the announcement yesterday.”

Yesterday. When she was curled up on the couch, burning with a low-grade fever, and no one noticed.

“I see,” she whispered.

Caleb placed a stack of pancakes in front of Mason and clapped him on the back. “Proud of you, son. You’re making moves.”

She stood there quietly, fingers tightening around the knot of her robe. “It’s my birthday today,” she said.

The silence was instant.

Naomi let out a low sigh. “Mom, seriously? Can you not make this about you?”

“I wasn’t trying to—”

“You just did,” Caleb cut in, voice sharp. “We’re in the middle of celebrating someone else, and you had to bring this up? So selfish.”

She bit her lip, feeling it tremble. “I just thought… Maybe we could all go out later. As a family.”

Mason finally looked up. “Sorry, but Naomi and I have plans. And I’m not giving up my evening for a dinner I didn’t ask for.”

Naomi smirked, sipping her juice. “And we’re not kids anymore. You don’t need a birthday party like you’re twelve.”

“I didn’t ask for a party,” she murmured. “Just some time together.”

Caleb shook his head. “Always so needy. This is exactly why I can’t talk to you about anything serious. You’re exhausting.”

She didn’t speak. Her throat closed up, her heart thudding against the weight of her silence.

Naomi stood, grabbing her purse. “Come on, babe. Let’s go. I’m not staying here to watch her get all dramatic again.”

She passed by her, brushing her shoulder with a deliberate bump.

Mason followed. “Happy birthday, I guess,” he mumbled, not looking at her.

The door slammed behind them.

She turned to Caleb, hoping maybe—just maybe—he’d soften. But he just picked up his coffee mug and walked past her like she wasn’t even there.

“You brought this on yourself,” he muttered. “Always wanting more.”

The front door clicked shut, and she was alone.

The pancakes were still warm on the table. She sat down quietly and picked one up with trembling hands, but she couldn’t bring herself to take a bite. Her stomach twisted with something heavier than hunger.

She stared out the window, eyes unfocused.

She used to be everything to them. She packed lunches, kissed scraped knees, stayed up with fevers, skipped her own doctor’s appointments just to get theirs scheduled.

Now she was just… in the way.

The faucet in the kitchen dripped steadily. The only sound left in the house.

She slowly got up, walked back to her bedroom, and changed out of the robe. She stared at her reflection for a long time. Pale skin. Tired eyes. Wrinkled dreams.

A single thought surfaced, clear and sharp.

I don’t want to live like this anymore.

She sat at her desk, opened the drawer she hadn’t touched in years, and pulled out a worn brochure. A solo wellness retreat in Kyoto she had circled long ago. Back when she still believed she’d be seen again.

She picked up her phone and dialed the number printed at the bottom.

“Konichiwa! Sakura Retreat, how can I assist you today?” a bright voice answered.

She took a deep breath.

“I’d like to book a stay,” she said, her voice steady. “Just for one.”