The papers were already on the table when he walked in.

Bruce didn’t need to pick them up to know what they were. Divorce papers. The same ones she had sent him two years ago—the ones he never signed. He had expected them then, thought maybe it was inevitable. That after everything, she would walk away for good.

But nothing ever came. No second attempt, no lawyers pushing him to respond. Just silence.

And now, here she was.

Sitting across from him in his office, her presence sharper than the memories he had tried to lock away. She still carried herself with that quiet certainty, the same one that had drawn him in years ago. But there was a distance now, a weight in her eyes that hadn't been there before.

She was still his wife. Legally, at least.

The thought made his jaw tighten.

Two years. That was how long it had been since the last time they spoke. Since the fight that tore through them like a storm, leaving nothing but wreckage behind. She had given him an ultimatum—her or the night. And like a fool, like the man he had always been, he made his choice.

She left. He let her.

But he never took off the ring.

It still sat on his finger, a ghost of a promise neither of them had truly broken. Maybe he told himself it was because of unfinished business, that he had left the papers untouched because there had been more pressing matters to deal with. Gotham never slept, and neither did he.

But that wasn’t the truth, was it?

He finally spoke, voice steady but edged with something unreadable. "I didn’t think you’d come back for this."

She didn’t react at first, just traced the edge of the papers with her fingertips. The same hands that had once held his without hesitation. The same hands that had once fit so perfectly in his.