Page 190 of Top Shelf

“Sorry. I was trying to leave something in your office.”

She nods toward her desk. “What’s in the envelope?”

My grandmother’s voice moves through me again.

Do not put paperwork in her hand when what you mean is your heart.

I thought I had learned, but apparently, learning sometimes waits until you are standing in an office with your wife and seventy-two salmon cream cheese puffs.

“Signed divorce papers.”

Everything in her face drops, and my mouth goes dry.

“And extra documents confirming I have no ownership or business interest in Return To Play and that nobody representing me is authorized to speak for the studio unless you ask them to.”

“The second part is less concerning right now.” She stares at me. “You signed divorce papers?”

“Yes.”

Her eyes shine. “Why?”

I put the tray down before I drop it. “I thought I was giving you a proper choice.”

Her mouth trembles once before she bites it. “A choice.”

“Yes.” I close my eyes, and when I open them again, she is still there. Still waiting. “I was afraid you would feel trapped because I love you and because my name is loud and because the marriage contract still exists.” My hand gestures back toward the envelope and her eyes follow. “But I see now this is maybe not how you felt.”

“No. I didn’t.” She presses the heel of her hand beneath her eye. “I told you I didn’t want us to end, Viktor.”

“I know.”

“Then why the fuck are you handing me an ending?”

I pause, heart in my throat, but I force myself to keep going. “My parents have loved each other my whole life. I grew up watching them and thinking it was beautiful, but it belonged to them. I did not think I was built for it.”

Her expression shifts, but I keep going because if I stop now, I might never get the words out.

“Then you happened. And now I want things I never let myself want before. I want your skincare scattered all through the bathroom. I want your notebooks everywhere and all the cabinets left open in the kitchen. I want to know what you are going to look like when you are forty, and fifty, and eighty, and tell you how much I fucking love you every single day.” My throat works around the pressure there. “I want so much with you that it scares the shit out of me.”

Heidi’s eyes flicker over my face, and I step closer, but I don’t touch her.

“But I love you enough that I will not turn that wanting into a cage. The contract does not decide what you are to me, so I thought if I signed it, I could take the pressure away. And if you choose me, Heidi, I will spend the rest of my life choosing you back. I just want it to be entirely your choice.”

She gives a small, disbelieving laugh. “And so you thought signed divorce papers wouldn’t change anything between us?”

“It sounds worse when you say it.”

“It’s divorce, Viktor. Generally considered a relationship event.”

A laugh almost catches in my chest, but when her mouth trembles, the humor disappears. She steps toward the desk and lifts the envelope, and her fingers brush the ribbon.

Her mouth twists. “You actually did the bow.”

“You asked me to.”

“That joke was funnier before I loved you, asshole.”

She pulls the ribbon loose and opens the envelope. The top page carries my signature, and her eyes stay there for a long time. Then she looks back up at me. “You signed them.”