We sat on the floor of his sleek, professional office, two shipwrecked survivors washed up on a cold, hard shore of linoleum. The elegant models of future buildings looked down on us, ironic witnesses to the collapse of our own structure.
The raw truth hung in the air between us, no longer a weapon, but a shared, devastating burden. We had named the demons. We had mapped the fortress.
The revelation was complete, and it left us in a void of exhausted silence.
What now?
The question was the entire universe. We had two paths, stark and clear.
Path one: Walk away. We had the reasons. The trust was shattered. The hurt was deep. We could divorce with the understanding that we'd broken something irreparable. We could split custody, sell the house, and try to build separate lives from the ru
