DIVORCE

d moments with unspoken understanding. Now, it was thick-charged with the weight of unsaid words and broken dreams. I

w seemed like a distant memory. His absence was a presence I couldn't escape, no matter how hard I tried. I coul

e we once shared, the promises we made, s

houghts. "We need to talk," he sa

ft to say? Everything had already been sa

eplied, my voice col

used to when we were close. But there was nothing-just a distant sadness in his gaze. I could see the conflict in him

pered. "I never thought... I n

t threatened to overwhelm me. "But we are. Here. Now." I couldn't help the bitterness in

o meet my eyes. "I've made so many mistakes," he muttered.

ould say would take away the hurt, the years of neglect, the lies, the broken promises. But I couldn't. Becaus

The question felt ridiculous the moment it left my lips, b

ly, his voice cracking as he spok

, that we could fix everything we had destroyed. But the scars were too deep, t

the words feeling like a weight I could no longer carry.

but I didn't move. The distance between us

led with desperation. "I know I've hurt you. I kno

eepless nights we'd spent in the same bed, but miles apart-that made my

I admitted, the words like a knife in my chest

ng, and I realized then that this conversation was more than just about us. It was about the end of s

were no longer the people we once were. We had changed-

iet of mutual understanding. It was the kind of silence that c

id finally, my voice small. "I think we nee

e first time in so long, I saw a flicker of the man I had once

pered, his voice rough. "But

plied. "I just... I don't

d and left, leaving me

The promise of hope, of reconciliation, lingered in the air, but it fel

age was no longer the same person who sat here now. And that thought,

was the begin