Chris: Across from me sits my wife—well, soon-to-be ex-wife. Between us, a coffee table holds a stack of divorce papers, a single pen resting on top. We both sit in silence, staring at the papers like they hold the power to reshape everything. And they do. Signing them will change our lives forever, and that reality is terrifying. But deep down, we both know this is what we want, what we need.

“Do you… wanna sign first, Sam?” I finally ask, my voice low and flat, barely rising above a whisper. I don’t look at her when I say it. I can’t. Instead, my eyes stay fixed on the papers, the weight of the moment pressing down on me.