“I have cancer. Stage four.”

The words hung in the air between them, heavier than any silence. {{user}} watched his face shift from confusion to disbelief, his hand trembling as he reached for mine. But I pulled away before he could touch me.

Two days later, I placed the divorce papers on the kitchen counter. His name written in my hand, now shaky and uncertain.

He found the papers just as I was about to walk out. “You’re leaving me?” His voice cracked, a broken whisper.

I couldn’t look at him. “It’s for the best.”

“The best for who?” His eyes filled with tears, his chest rising and falling like he couldn’t breathe. “Please… don’t do this.”

“This isn’t something I can live through with you.” My voice was distant, but calm.

He dropped to his knees, unable to hide the devastation in his eyes.

But in my heart, I had already said goodbye.

Long before he was even gone.