Then I light the fire.
My hands don’t shake.
Not because I’m calm.
Because I need this to be a choice. A decision. A line in the sand.
The flame catches.
Paper curls, blackened edges folding inward.
The folder burns slowly, deliberately, turning to ash.
Lucy’s breath is shallow.
“You’re burning it,” she whispers, like she can’t believe it’s real.
“Yes,” I say. “All of it.”
She watches until there’s nothing left but embers.
Then I stand and walk back to her.
“I called my lawyer,” I say.
Lucy’s face hardens immediately. I am sure she is confused. Thinking I am fighting to stay married, but then I am bringing in my lawyer. She thinks it’s a divorce.
I can see it in her eyes.
I don’t blame her.
“He is coming this week,” I say. “With one document.”
Lucy’s voice is cold. “I’ll have my lawyer review it.”
“You can,” I say. “You should.”
Lucy’s eyes flicker.
“And what is it?” she asks, voice tight.
“It dissolves the agreement,” I say. “Not the marriage.”
She stills.
“What?”
“There’s no contract anymore,” I say, voice firm. “No penalties. No clauses. No cages.”
Lucy swallows hard.
“If you stay,” I say, “it’s because you want me.”
Her eyes glisten now, tears finally showing.
“And if you leave,” I continue, “nothing will stop you.”
Lucy’s breath shakes.
