I slid the pen across the table toward him.
Owen stared at the divorce papers in front of him for a long time.
Finally, he looked up at me, eyes full of quiet pleading.
"Do we really have to do this?"
Our eyes met. In the end, he lost to my silence.
Owen let out a bitter laugh. "I get it. You don't have to say anything else."
He picked up the pen, but his hand wouldn't stop shaking.
Just like the day we got married.
Back then, Owen could speak in front of thousands without missing a beat, but at our wedding, in front of a few hundred people, his voice had trembled.
He had said, "Stella, I finally get to marry you."
The love we had back then was real. And the pain now was just as real.
In the end, love comes down to conscience.
Owen signed his name. He pushed the papers back to
