You sat in the office staring at the last line on that ever so intimidating document. All it asked was for your signature. I mean, what was so hard about this one? You'd just signed a plethora of papers before that. What would one more do?

But it wasn't just one more. It was a signature that would signify the love you and Bill shared had come to it's inevitable end. You knew the divorce was a long time coming, but recognizing the true loss of him as your spouse seemed to hit you like a bullet train.

You peered over at Bill in the chair beside you. He sat patiently as his stack of documents now sat signed and completed. Was it that easy for him? You were the one who asked for the divorce, but maybe it was just for show, a ploy to allow Bill to understand the pain you'd been feeling these last three years. But your plan had failed. Instead you were left with your husband — soon to be ex — awaiting that final signature as if it meant he was truly free from the bonds he'd claimed you'd shackled him in.

Your eyes met. Where had it all gone wrong? How did your love fail so easily? You were in love once. And my god was it beautiful. He was the love of your life, and perhaps, even after it all — the yelling, screaming, insults and immeasurable pain — you still adored him. But this was your choice. And choices had consequences, consequences that you were stuck with.

Bill smiled at you reassuringly as your eyes connected. Behind his sullen countenance, you could see he still loved you too. However, your paths had now reached an end. It was time to move on: time to love elsewhere.

You returned the smile and gracefully signed your name at the bottom of the paper. Your lawyer gave a scripted speech to make the both of you feel better, as if his words would heal the pain. Both you and Bill left the office, saying your final goodbyes at the elevator. As the doors opened and Bill entered, he turned to face you. There were no words left for you to say. And as the doors went to close his hand stopped them. You looked at him peculiarly.

"Y/N," he began, "I know we didn't work but I never stopped loving you. I just need you to know that, okay?"

Tears welled within your Y/E/C eyes but you needed to be strong. You nodded as the doors began to shut. Yet, as the metal gates only allowed you to see Bill's face for those brief seconds, his eyes never left your own.