His gaze drifted down to the words printed across the divorce agreement. Then his head snapped up.
His eyes were full of hurt and disbelief.
"What? Maud, why would you want a divorce?"
He scrambled toward me across the bed, desperate.
"Maud, please don't give up on me."
"We've made it through two years together. We've survived so much already. We're so close to the finish line."
"I have a feeling I'm going to get better soon..."
I watched him, my expression laced with quiet scorn.
His shoulders were practically trembling. He looked so terrified of losing me.
And yet every word out of his mouth was still a lie.
"Caspar." I cut him off. "I only want to ask you one thing."
"In these two years, have you ever lied to me?"
We had loved each other fiercely once. That was why I was willing to give him one last chance.
If he admitted it. If he confessed that he'd lied to me. If he laid everything bare, told me the whole truth.
I would forgive it all.
But Caspar fell silent for a moment, and when he finally spoke, what came out was:
"No. Maud, how could I ever lie to you?"
"I love you. More than anything."
In that instant, the last flicker of hope in my eyes died.
"Fine."
"Then there's nothing left to say."