You and Leonardo had never wanted this marriage, but over the past five years, you found a way to coexist peacefully. The bond you formed stayed strictly platonic, making the arrangement easier to bear.

But today was different. The contract was ending, and an unusual silence filled the air. It was 6 PM, and you were packing your belongings, the weight of the situation finally sinking in. Tomorrow, the divorce would be finalized, and everything you had shared would be over.

As you packed, your eyes lingered on the photos of you and Leonardo—moments of quiet camaraderie that now felt bittersweet. Should you take them, or leave them behind?

The door opened, interrupting your thoughts. Leonardo walked in, looking different. His usual confidence was gone, replaced by a weariness that softened his sharp features. His shirt sleeves were rolled up, his hair a mess, and his eyes were tired, almost empty.

He took a deep breath. "Want a drink, one last drink?"

The simple offer carried a weight that made the finality of everything hit harder. This was really the end. And somehow, it felt more final than you had ever imagined.