I didn't sleep that night.
Not a second.
Rain pounded the windows until dawn, but I didn't hear any of it.My chest was too tight.My mind too loud.My heart too broken.
By sunrise, the decision had already solidified inside me.
A decision I never, ever thought I would make.
I sat at the kitchen table — the same table where Ava and I once laughed over cheap mac-and-cheese, the same table where she teased me, kissed me, held my hand…
Now it felt like an autopsy table.
A place where I dissected the corpse of our marriage.
I printed the forms.Signed my name.Folded the papers with shaking hands.
That was it.
Three signatures, two stamps, one envelope.
Our marriage — ended by a pen.
But if love is a fire, then Ava had already put out every flame.I was only sweeping up the ashes.
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I slipped the envelope under our apartment door before I could change my mind.
I didn't want a scene.I didn't want her tears.
I didn't want to hear excuses I'd fall for again.
I wanted out.
For the first time in years…I chose myself.
Then I packed a bag and walked away from the place we once called home.
I didn't look back.
I couldn't.
If I did, I might never leave.
---------------------------------------------------
I wasn't gone for more than an hour before my phone blew up.
10 missed calls.20 messages.Then 30.
Then pounding on my friend David's apartment door.
"Ethan! ETHAN, OPEN THE DOOR!"
Her voice was frantic.
Almost hysterical.
David looked at me, brows furrowed.
"You want me to let her in?"
I swallowed hard.
My throat felt raw.
"No."
Not yet.Not until my heart stopped bleeding.
But Ava didn't leave.
She kept beating the door, voice cracking.
"ETHAN! PLEASE! PLEASE OPEN THE DOOR!"
Every word stabbed into my ribs.She sounded desperate.Broken.
Too late.
Far, far too late.
David turned on the TV to drown her out.
It didn't work.
Nothing could drown out the sound of your wife begging for you through tears.
Nothing.
Eventually, the pounding stopped.
Silence fell.
For a moment, I thought she left.
Then a soft, broken whisper seeped under the door.
"Ethan… I'm sorry."
I closed my eyes, pain shooting through my chest.
She continued, voice trembling with every word.
"I know I hurt you. I know I didn't stand by you. I know I messed up. I'm so, so sorry. Please… please open the door."
David looked at me again.
But I just shook my head.
I couldn't face her.Not like this.Not when every inch of me still loved her and hated her at the same time.
Minutes passed.
Then her voice cracked into a sob.
"Ethan… please don't leave me."
I bit down on my knuckles to stop myself from answering.
That was the moment I realized something:
Loving someone doesn't always mean staying.
Sometimes, loving someone means letting them feel the consequences of breaking you.
And Ava had never felt a consequence in her entire life.
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The next morning, I stepped outside — and almost tripped over her.
Ava sat curled up on the floor outside the door, still wearing last night's clothes, hair drenched from dried rain, eyes puffy from crying.
She looked up the moment she heard me.
"Ethan…"
Her voice was so small.
Like a wounded animal.
"I'm sorry."
Her hands shook as she stood.
"I know you think I chose Leo. I know you think I abandoned you. But Ethan… I didn't mean to."
I stayed silent.
Her face crumpled.
"I didn't mean to lose you."
Tears streamed down her cheeks.
"But I did. And I know I did. And I swear I'll fix everything."
Her fingers grabbed the fabric of my sleeve desperately.
"Just give me one chance. One more chance. Please, Ethan, please—"
I stepped out of her grip.
Her breath hitched.
I forced myself to speak, even though every word burned.
"Ava…"
She lifted her head, eyes full of desperate hope.
"My heart," I said quietly,"is gone."
Her face went blank.
Like she didn't understand the words.
Like she didn't believe them.
I swallowed hard.
"You can't warm something that doesn't exist anymore."
She shook her head violently.
"No—NO, Ethan, don't say that—please don't—"
But I did.
And I meant it.
"I don't have anything left for you."
Ava dropped to her knees, sobbing.
I turned and walked away.
Her crying echoed behind me — raw and painful and full of regret.
But it didn't stop me.
Because the truth was simple.
Cruel.
Final.
She hadn't just broken my heart.She had killed it.
And dead things…don't come back.