"Why did you bring it here, of all places? Did you think I would just sign it?" Augustin's gaze locks onto the divorce paper that I placed on the table. His expression is inscrutable, a mixture of annoyance, irritation, and a touch of sadness... in every shade of human emotion, I see a bit of it in him.

I sit down, my hands clasped together. I couldn't bring myself to meet Augustin's eyes at first. I feared he would see through my unease and thereby grasp a strategy to counter me. But then I remembered Landry's words and reflected on myself. I had spent too much time thinking about the villain Augustin had become, completely disregarding the inherent goodness in him. I should not have forgotten that I, myself, contributed to shaping the person he is today. If I could forgive myself, perhaps this was the time to look at him with a different pair of eyes.

Gathering my courage, I lift my head to look directly at him. My voice resonates with determination as I speak to him, "This is our marriage, Augustin. I believe we both see how cramped this cage has become."

"And?" Augustin raises an eyebrow. "I happen to like that cage!"

With those words, he claps his hands onto the armrest of his wheelchair, as if reminding me that he's the one who truly understands the confinement. I had intended not to show kindness towards him anymore, thinking that confronting him was a mistake. But then, I take a deep breath, gather my composure, and come to a decision. I speak to him with a fervor that lacks any hesitation, "We've had opportunities to salvage this marriage, and neither of us took them. Augustin, I feel terrible for not valuing the affection you had for me and for taking full responsibility for the failure of our marriage..."

"Courageous of you to say that, Fiona," Augustin smiles. "Are you hoping that saying that will make me gladly sign the paper?"

"I want everything to end when neither of us holds any grudge against each other."

"What makes you think I won't hold resentment, Fiona?" Augustin tilts his head slightly, looking surprised. "You've hurt me not just once, you know."

My index finger presses against my other palm to keep myself calm. My mind races at full speed to think of the right words. In silence, I lift my gaze and look directly at Augustin. The man who used to tower over me by two heads is now shorter than me. He sits quietly in his wheelchair, with his fingers rhythmically tapping on the armrest. His thick eyebrows, as if two swords, furrow over his eyes, and the lines of his face seem etched deeper, as if two swords have gouged their way into my flesh. What should I say?

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"Augustin..." I start hesitatingly. A lump in my throat makes it difficult to get the words out. "Because I know you still love me, and a part of me still feels something for you."

I had thought that line would be hard to say, but in truth, it's not as difficult as I imagined. It seems that the feelings I hold for him aren't as exhausted as I told everyone. It's not a fleeting remark to flatter him; it's the truth. Our gazes meet, causing our bodies to freeze in place without a spoken word, as if suspended in time. In a different setting, we could have been incredibly romantic. I can see his body beginning to tremble. From his gaze to the movement of his fingers, I feel as if his heart is knocking on a door. But then Augustin shakes his head, dismissing it all. He chuckles lightly and inquires, "Oh, Fiona, is it that you're ready to do anything just to get a divorce?"

"I'll do anything to live a life of freedom, Augustin," I decisively reply. "But what I've said to you, I'm not lying. We've been together for eight years, Augustin, haven't you understood me?"

Augustin falls into a contemplative silence for a while, and I suppose he grasps the essence of my words. I stand up and move closer to him. In my hand, I hold the wedding ring that I removed at some point. I raise it in front of him, then slowly put it back on my right ring finger instead of the left. Augustin's expression betrays skepticism when he witnesses this action. Taking a deep breath, I speak resolutely, "Let the good feelings we once shared endure for the time we have left, Augustin. I'm putting this wedding ring back on because I've decided to keep the affection you've had for me along with what I'll experience in the days to come."

Then, I lower myself slightly, allowing our sincere gazes to meet. I'm too exhausted from all the fighting and waiting. Weariness has drained everything from me. I have a good premonition about Augustin. I can sense it. Because above all else, we used to be husband and wife. Despite not wanting to, we each still carry a part of the other within us.

"Augustin, let the love I've held for you stay intact as long as it can. Francine is a product of you and me, and I hope you can consider her..."

My onslaught leaves Augustin momentarily speechless. His face sinks as he ponders over what I've said, his gaze then turning to the divorce paper placed on the table. I step back, creating a space for him to contemplate. I use my hand to brush aside a strand of hair falling over my forehead, and then say, "I'll let you think about it."

Finishing my sentence, I reach out to adjust my attire and then turn around to leave. As my hand grasps the door handle, Augustin abruptly calls me back with an exceedingly serious demeanor. I pivot, clasping my hands together, waiting intently.

It seems to be a significant decision, which is why he can't respond immediately. It takes a moment, and a few clearing-throat-like sounds as if something's stuck in his throat, for Augustin to gather the courage to speak. He looks at me, his gaze laden with contemplation. Slowly, he says, "You'll have an answer on New Year's Eve."

Though it's not a definite or paramount answer, Augustin has at least put me more at ease than before. I look at him and genuinely smile. It's been a long time since I felt so comfortable facing him. I nod gently in greeting, then step out of the room with great hope and a belief in a promising new beginning.