Chapter 3：Prologue (1/2)

I stare at the back of the man who was once my husband.

We've been walking for some time. The soles of our shoes resoundingly clack against the dark slate flooring as we find ourselves emerging out of yet another heavy door.

What is it about government buildings? They have way too many entryways.

I look around with great disinterest as I continue following after the same person walking in front of me. We already got what we came here for, so I feel relaxed enough to look around—not that anything is interesting around here, mind you.

I sigh, not minding the fact that I'm letting out whatever happiness I have left whenever I do so.

My steps slow down a little as I look off to the side. The hallway is being lined with vibrant green plants.

My once vacuous eyes begin to find their spark, filling its peridot orbs with light—they shift and flit from one evenly fanned out clusters of Austral gem ferns to the next.

Oh. That's odd.

I didn't notice on our way in, but there's been a slight upgrade since the last time I've been here. Those ferns used to be in these unsightly terracotta pots. They must've outgrown them, as they're now in these stylish, modern stainless steel planters that have been carefully polished to a satin finish.

A sophisticated, geometric laser-cut motif adds a subtle and tasteful touch to the overall design.

The small break from the monotony of our surroundings, unfortunately, is short-lived. After all, one could only admire a single pottery design for so long. It's simply not good enough of a distraction.

It's not long after until my attention goes back to what I've been trying to avoid noticing since earlier.

Every single person we've passed by so far either looks preoccupied, absent-minded, or relatively troubled. I can't shake the feeling of uneasiness as we continue to make our way down the hall.

It doesn't matter which day of the week I visit, but it's always been a bit wayyy too quiet here for my liking. It's understandable, I guess. Most of these people are on their 'best' behavior - looking quite stiff or tense as they try to keep themselves together.

Why do you ask? Well, they don't have much choice, I guess.

We're at the 'Supreme Court' after all. These bare walls and stuffy atmosphere aren't exactly the best at instilling a good vibe on anyone. It's not the type of place where many good things happen - if you know what I mean.

But really, I kid you not: this thick, uncomfortable blanket of silence will swallow anyone and every one whole one day. For real, yo, I can see it.

The earth will give way; then the very ground we're walking on will split apart as it turns into a deep chasm and whatever crazy stuff one can think of while having a mini-anxiety attack.

...

Alright. This is dumb; I'll stop.

On a more serious note, I'm not quite sure if my feelings are just exaggerated, though.

Maybe the real reason for my discomfort is the general mood of this place.

Everything regarding civil, family, and criminal law cases, all get processed within the same building.

With my eyebrows bunching together, the calm demeanor I typically have changes and morphs into a frown.

My line of sight drops to the floor as my grip tightens around a thin manila envelope I've been holding onto since earlier.

In it is a single piece of paper with an unusual papyrus texture.

It's a document that proves we're officially divorced from today onwards.

As far as how our application was processed, we virtually had zero hiccups.

The entire procedure has been smooth from start to finish. We don't own any joint properties, nor do we have kids.

All of these add up to the best-case scenario: the perfect setting for having a successful and uncontested divorce registration.

The judge probably feels like these are a most welcome breeze now and then.

It's a perfect respite from days filled with depressing hearings involving homicide, messy family inheritance disputes, and emotionally charged child custody cases.

It might not even be a stretch that some might get a kick out of how easy cases like mine usually are. We didn't even need to show up at a hearing.

I can't even begin to imagine how terrible it'd be for some families who've already built a life together, though.

This means the more involved you are in each other's lives, the more things get entangled beyond recognition.

By the time you finish forcefully tearing things apart, all that's left is a bloody mess.

I can't quite decide if I should be happy about not going through this or not, for obvious reasons, to be quite honest.

Breathing out yet another hefty sigh, I lay my hand flat against the top of my chest.