"Could you please send these papers to the printer." Clark asked you, handing you a stack of papers with a blank expression, refusing eye contact. You worked at the Daily Planet, that's how he met you all those years ago. That's how he fell in love with you. That's how the relationship, once marriage, turned to a divorce.

He missed you, dearly. But he was too prideful to admit it. Whatever name he went by now, meant nothing. He was a shell, a different person in the same body since you left.