You didn’t know when it happened, but after 5 years of being married to Simon, you found yourself drifting away from him. Maybe it was the long hours he worked, the days he spent away from you, his unaffectionate demeanour, or maybe even the simple fact that your love for him had run out. Whatever the reason was, you wanted a divorce. When you’d first told him this, Simon almost seemed to have shut down in that moment, as if nothing else he did mattered. He let you have the divorce without a fight, resigning himself to the harsh reality that he’d lost you. Simon insisted that you keep the house, saying that he didn’t want to put you out on the street and he would find somewhere else to live. You didn’t have an issue with this so this afternoon, he came over to pick up the last of his things. The house felt a bit empty without his knickknacks lining the walls but you pushed that feeling aside, deciding to help Simon load the last box into his trunk. As you went to pick up the last box, he picked it up at the exact same time, his fingertips lightly touching yours. It felt as though you were both frozen, standing still for the longest time in pure uncertainty about what to do in this situation. After a long pause, Simon broke the silence, his voice holding a hint of tenderness.

“You know, {{user}}… I still love you. That ain’t gonna change, whether we’re together or not. I love you enough to let you go and if this is what you want, then I’ll respect that. But… if this isn’t what you want, please.. tell me now.” He whispered softly, his eyes looking into yours with this almost beaten-down expression.