These thoughts, a cocktail of disbelief and disgust, churned in my stomach. I couldn't bear to witness any more of Levi's grand manipulation. Turning my back on the fading energy of the protest, I drove home. Levi wasn't in his study. I found him seated at the dining table, his gaze fixed on the tranquil expanse of the back garden. There was an unsettling stillness about him.

As if sensing my arrival, he turned his head. A crinkle appeared at the corner of his right eye.

“Hm… This again, Raphael?” he observed languidly. “Standing on the precipice of another impassioned moral lecture, I presume? The familiar refrain of my lack of basic human decency, my inherent amorality, and so forth. Judging by the palpable waves of anger radiating from you, this might even escalate into one of our more… dramatic exchanges. Perhaps even a break-up conversation. How utterly predictable.” He leaned back on the chair.

“Predictable? Damn right it’s predictable, Levi!” I retorted, my voice tight with barely suppressed fury. “And a break-up conversation? Is that what you’re hoping for?”

He scoffed. “Utterly ridiculous, truly. Weren’t you the one who made rather… permanent vows, right there on my ring finger, a mere two days ago? Now, here you stand, radiating self-righteous indignation, all choked up with your predictable tears for the masses. Always so concerned with the plight of others, Raphael. Almost to the exclusion of everything else… including, it seems, the promises you so recently made.”

“You are deliberately twisting my words, Levi! The very reason I am this angry, this deeply hurt, is because I care about us!”

He leaned forward. “Care about ‘us’? A rather… selective application of your empathy, wouldn’t you say? While I am sitting here, actively engaged in ensuring the very foundations of this country don’t crumble into dust, your primary concern isn’t even for the citizens whose livelihoods are at stake, is it? No, no. It’s always about you, isn’t it, Raphael? You, once again painting me as some cartoonish monster who orchestrates chaos for the sheer thrill of it. You see, I am growing weary of this perpetual impasse. I can practically see the festering judgments swirling within that remarkably thick skull of yours. ‘He is so manipulative, he lacks decency, he is so utterly immoral, he treats everyone like pawns.’ And you know what, Raphael? For once, you’re not wrong.”

“You disgust me,” I said and meant it.

He raised an eyebrow, his expression devoid of any emotion. “Hm… Well then. It appears we’ve reached the inevitable conclusion of this… tiresome exchange, haven’t we? Please do me a favor and proceed to my study. In the second drawer of the mahogany cabinet, you’ll find a black file. Kindly retrieve the contents within – the divorce papers. Go on, Raphael.”

“Divorce papers? You actually want me to leave, Levi? Just like that? No arguments? No attempt to even understand where I’m coming from?” My voice was a strained whisper, disbelief warring with a rising tide of hurt.

He sighed. “I am bored, Raphael. Bored of your predictable moral grandstanding. Bored of your persistent inability to grasp the larger picture, your fundamental lack of strategic perception. What exactly do you imagine happens when a nation’s economy collapses, Raphael? Do we simply hold hands and take a leisurely stroll through the park?”

“So you’re ‘bored’ of me now, Levi? Is it the same kind of boredom that nearly drove you to… oblivion?” I spat out.

He sighed again, a drawn-out sound of utter resignation. “I am not bored of you, Raphael. I am bored of your morality. I am bored of this perpetual stalemate between our perspectives. You are right, I am wrong. I am right, you are wrong. It’s a tedious, endless loop, Raphael. Truly. Everything in your world is so starkly defined, either black or white. While my existence, the very fabric of my being, simply resides in the grey areas. That, is the real and insurmountable chasm between us.”

“It’s not a chasm anymore, Levi,” I stated, my voice flat, the raw emotion having solidified into a cold resolve. “This… this is the breaking point.”

He let out a humorless chuckle. “Hm… It only took a week for you to reach this dramatic conclusion, Raphael. All this… theatrical outrage over what, precisely? My lack of morality. You always knew didn’t you? You just chose to overlook it. Now you’ve finally deigned to acknowledge what was always there. And even now, you don’t truly see the intricate tapestry of my ‘deep grey shade,’. You simply see me… taking care of a situation.” He rose from his chair, his gaze direct. “And frankly, Raphael… I am tired of you too.”

I recoiled, taking a step back as if he’d physically struck me.

He offered a sardonic smile. “Oh? Surprised by my candor? What exactly did you expect, Raphael? That I would suddenly crave your belated ‘recognition’ of my methods? After the torrent of condemnation you just unleashed? No. Enough. Go.” He gestured sharply towards his study. “Go and retrieve the divorce papers. Now. Let’s finally cut this tedious cycle off, for the third and final time.”

Levi… is actually going to divorce me. The reality of his words hit me with the force of a physical blow, stealing the air from my lungs. Just a week ago, he’d stood before me, his eyes blazing with a possessive intensity, declaring he would burn the entire world to ashes for my sake. And now… now he’s coldly instructing me to fetch the papers that will legally sever us, end our life together. He’s really going to do it. He’s actually going to divorce me.

I stumbled backward, until the cold glass of the windows pressed against my spine.

“Ah,” Levi said, a cruel satisfaction lacing his tone. “So the depth of my conviction has finally registered. You see, Raphael, your constant dismissal, your relentless berating… it doesn’t elicit ‘hurt’ within me. It ignites an incandescent fury. What would you do, I wonder, if I hurled even a quarter of the insults you so freely throw in my face every single day, hm? Or what would your reaction be if your husband vowed to understand you, only to shatter that vow mere days later? Once again, Raphael, let me make this clear. This conversation isn’t about ‘us.’ It’s about your self-righteous judgment. Get out of my house, Raphael.”

Fury? He feels fury? After the way he just dismantled our entire marriage? The insults I hurl? I call his manipulative behavior what it is!

“Oh, you piece of shit!” I spat, the raw anger finally breaking through the shock. “You feel fury? You feel anger? Welcome to the human condition, Levi! Get out of your house? This is our house! And shut the fuck up with your self-pity. You manipulated an entire goddamn country! What in the hell was I supposed to feel? Come home and stroke your colossal ego? ‘Oh, you’re so brilliant, Levi’? Is that what you actually expected? You knew damn well how I would react! Of course I felt this way! How in God’s name could I have felt anything else?”

“Your… spirited outburst, while momentarily diverting, was entirely within the realm of my expectations, Raphael. You see, despite your considerable intellect, that remarkably dense cranium of yours still clings to the simplistic notion that manipulation is inherently driven by a desire for ‘chaos.’ If genuine chaos were my objective, believe me, the outcome would be far more… aesthetically disruptive. What transpired today wasn't even manipulation. It was merely two discreet phone calls to individuals. I didn’t ignite that initial spark of unrest; I simply recognized its potential and… guided its trajectory. That is all. Now, tell me, Raphael. After all this time, after all our shared intimacies and conflicts, what do you truly believe I am?”

“I… I honestly don’t know what you are anymore, Levi,” I confessed, the raw confusion and pain evident in my voice. “I can’t reconcile the image of you, the man who prepares my tea every morning, who knows exactly how I like it, with the man who coldly orchestrates the exploitation of public unrest as a temporary fix for a failing economy. Those two people… they don’t fit. They can’t possibly be the same.”

“What a remarkably boring notion, Raphael. Villains and heroes, light and shadow, angel and devil. Is that truly how you navigate this intricate, often morally ambiguous world? With such simplistic categorizations? How…” Levi trailed off, a flicker of something unreadable – perhaps disappointment, perhaps annoyance – crossing his features as he abruptly averted his gaze, turning to stare out at the garden.

“How what, Levi?” I pressed, the sting of his unspoken accusations still sharp. “Boring? Simple? Childish? Naive? Yes, damn it, I have a moral compass! I believe in right and wrong! Is that so incomprehensible to you?”

“I don’t, Raphael. That’s the fundamental truth of it. Simple as that.”

He… he just admitted it. But knowing that… it doesn't make the consequences any less devastating. It doesn't suddenly make manipulating an entire country right.

“I know you don’t, Levi. But I do. I have a moral compass, and it’s screaming right now. It’s so incredibly hard, Levi… So difficult to reconcile the hand I hold, the hand I’ve intertwined my life with, with the hand that so casually manipulates the fate of an entire nation…”

He scoffed. “Why is everything always about you, Raphael? Why? WHY must you always center yourself in the midst of a crisis? Your husband is actively engaged in preventing the entire nation from economic collapse, from utter ruin, and your primary concern is… what, exactly? That I didn’t take… precious sentiment into account? I truly don’t comprehend this… this utter lack of perspective, this baffling self-absorption.” His voice rose slightly.

“It’s not about me, Levi! It’s about the people you’re manipulating! It’s about right and wrong! How can you not see that? Saving the nation by trampling on its citizens’ dignity? Is that your idea of a solution?”

He held out his hand, his expression impatient. “Give me a cigarette before I explode in exasperation, Raphael. I don’t ‘care’ about your simplistic notions of right or wrong. And no, it’s not a solution, as you so dramatically put it. It’s a temporary buffer, buying this goddamn country maybe one or two weeks before the currency continues its delightful downward spiral.” He lit the cigarette with a flick of my lighter, inhaling deeply. “Now, do you finally grasp the stakes, or are you still lost in your moral outrage?”

He smokes? I’d never seen him with a cigarette before.

“Moral outrage…” I murmured, the words laced with a weary resignation. “Gods, Levi… it truly is a never-ending battle between us, isn’t it?”

“Indeed,” he stated, his gaze sharp. “So, the choice is stark, Raphael. Either end this perpetual conflict or accept it as an inherent part of our… dynamic. That is the final question I have for you. Frankly, I am beyond weary; I am rather angry.” He glanced down at the cigarette in his hand. “You are possibly one of the wealthiest individuals in this nation, and you choose to smoke low-tar cigarettes, Raphael? Such… underwhelming self-indulgence.”

End it or stay?

“Fuck you, Levi,” I choked out. My hand trembled as I snatched a cigarette from the pack and clumsily lit it, the harsh smoke catching in my throat. “I don’t want to leave you, damn it. I really, truly don’t. I just… I just desperately wish you could be a little less… Levi. A little more understanding of the impact your choices have, not on the economy, but on actual human beings. On me.”

“Well,” Levi began, exhaling a slow stream of smoke that curled towards the high ceiling, his gaze drifting momentarily as if contemplating some complex equation, “I cannot offer promises regarding my interactions with other humans, Raphael. Frankly, that would be akin to believing in ‘god’. However,” he turned his attention back to me, “I may be subtly inclined towards… shall we say, a more discreet presentation of my ‘villainy’ in your presence. You could choose the comfort of willful ignorance. But you won’t. Therefore, I suggest this; I obviously anticipated that you would experience ‘sadness’ and ‘guilt’ as a consequence of my actions. But I proceeded nonetheless. Not because I derive some perverse pleasure from it – to be perfectly candid, governance is a monumentally tedious endeavor. But as you, with your considerable intellect, are well aware, there is simply no one else capable of executing this necessary, albeit unpleasant, task. I also fully understood that this particular action of mine would likely drive a further wedge between us. But once again, I acted. Not for my own personal gain, truly. It is, in its purest form, to prevent us all – the entirety of our populace – from descending into utter ruin, from simply shriveling and perishing, Raphael. Do you genuinely not comprehend the catastrophic ramifications of a complete economic collapse? You are inextricably linked to this nation, Raphael. Your well-being is also at stake. Why can’t you see the brutal necessity of these… less than palatable measures?”

If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

“And what kind of a country will we be living in, Levi,” I countered, the smoke from cigarette stinging my eyes, “if its leader is utterly incapable of even the most basic ethical or moral considerations?”

“Well then, Raphael. If my lack of ‘ethics’ and ‘morality’ is such an insurmountable obstacle for you, perhaps the most logical course of action is for me to simply resign from my… tedious occupation. I confess, the endless demands and the pervasive idiocy I encounter on a daily basis have already begun to wear rather thin.” He flicked ash into the crystal ashtray, his gaze distant as if already contemplating his departure.

“So you’re actually considering abandoning the entire country, Levi? Just… walking away? And the reason is because you’re ‘bored’ of having conversations and, yes, arguments about basic morality and ethics?”

He met my gaze. “No, Raphael. I would be abandoning the country for my husband. Knowing full well that possibly a week later, we will be embroiled in yet another tiresome debate about my lack of morality. See, Raphael? That is the very essence of ‘indifference.’ That is what I am.”

"That makes absolutely no logical sense, even for you, Levi. It's not indifference; it's a bizarre form of… martyrdom?"

“It would be a rather fittingly dramatic end for me, wouldn’t it, Raphael? Dying, in a metaphorical sense, for you.” A wry smile touched Levi’s lips.

“You… Gods, Levi. No. Don’t even joke about quitting your job. Don’t abandon your responsibilities. Instead…” I paused, a desperate idea forming in my mind. “You know how we were discussing you perhaps needing more… specialized assistance? Instead of ten purely logistical aides, what if you brought on at least one or two individuals whose specific role would be to… illustrate the human cost of your decisions? Because, Levi… you’re right. This constant debate about morality, about ethics… it’s not bridging the gap between us. It’s just relentlessly eroding what we have left.”

“Raphael, you are…” Levi began, a long pause stretching between his words. Finally, he exhaled slowly. “Ah… if this… this rather unconventional proposition is what it will take to grant you a modicum of peace, then… fine. But do not delude yourself, Raphael. Do not for a single second believe that this gesture, this superficial addition to my staff, will somehow magically mend the fundamental chasm between us, will erase the inherent conflict in our very natures in the blink of an eye.”

“So… you’re actually accepting this… this ‘human cost consultant’ idea… for me? And for no other reason?”

“Yes, Raphael. What fantastical notion has taken root in that idealistic mind of yours now? Did you believe that having someone whisper in my ear, ‘Oh, sir, no, that is morally reprehensible,’ would somehow trigger a profound metamorphosis within me? Do you truly harbor such… quaint hope? Hope for what, Raphael? That I would suddenly transform into some whimpering puppy, eager to please your ethical sensibilities? You know perfectly well that even entertaining such a ludicrous proposition is so fundamentally offensive to the very architecture of my neurodivergent brain that it actually makes my gut churn with visceral distaste.”

“Well, Levi,” I retorted, “you make my stomach churn quite frequently as well. But despite that… yes. I am still here, aren’t I?”

He shook his head slowly. “No, Raphael. You are not truly here. You are still clinging to your own idealized version of me, a phantom that never truly exists. That, my dear Raphael, is what is so… shattering, so heartbreaking, so utterly offensive. Do you see?” He paused, a genuine struggle evident in his expression. “Do you see, Raphael, how I… how I couldn’t even find the words to express the depth of that chasm between your perception and my reality?”

“Perhaps you are right, Levi,” I conceded, the fight draining out of me, leaving behind a hollow ache. “Perhaps I have been clinging to a ghost. But even so… I cannot accept your immorality.”

“AGH!” The sudden, sharp exclamation ripped through the quiet tension of the room. Levi surged to his feet. He turned sharply and began to walk towards the staircase, his back to me, his posture rigid with an emotion I couldn't quite decipher.

What was that? Not anger… almost like a sudden realization, or… pain? He just… left. His posture… it wasn’t just rigid, it was almost… vulnerable? No, that’s just wishful thinking.

My fingers, punched in the six-digit code to his study. The door clicked open, revealing him seated at his mahogany desk, the lamplight casting harsh shadows across his face. And there it was, stark and undeniable: the stack of divorce papers, and Levi, pen in hand, signing his name on each damning page.

“Sign them,” Levi stated, his voice flat and devoid of any lingering emotion, his gaze fixed on the papers as if they were merely another tedious document requiring his attention. He slid the stack across the polished surface of the desk until they rested precariously on the very edge. “Sign them and get out of my house, Raphael.”

“But why the sudden rush, Levi?” The question tumbled out before I could stop it.

He cut me off with his hand. “Sudden?” he echoed, his voice tight with agitation. “Good Gods, Raphael, how can you even ask? I am bored with this endless conflict, utterly tired of your perpetual moral judgments, worn out by the sheer effort of maintaining this… charade. Frankly, I am bordering on hysteria right now. What is the point of prolonging this… this ‘marriage’ if it only serves to inflict relentless pain upon us both? Sign them, Raphael. Please. Just… sign them and let us finally be done with this.”

“H-hysteria?”

Levi, the epitome of controlled detachment, bordering on hysteria?

He held out his hand, the tremor visible even in the dim lamplight. “Look at this, Raphael. Look at this… unseemly display of raw emotion.” His voice was strained. “What, in the name of sanity, is the point of prolonging this farce if all it yields is mutual sadness and agonizing pain?”

“Human error, Levi.” My voice was thick with unshed tears. “That’s what you’d call this… this mess in your cold, calculating logic. I call it love, Levi. Imperfect, messy, agonizing love. It hurts sometimes, yeah. And gods, Levi, I am hurting. I don’t want to divorce you. I truly don’t. I love you, Levi.”

“All hearts break, Raphael,” Levi murmured, his voice low and weary, his gaze distant. “And all hearts, eventually, mend. But I… I no longer possess the resilience, the inclination, to endure this constant fracturing. I don’t wish to feel this pain anymore. This… sadness… To be in the presence of another human being, someone I’ve shared my life with, only to be met with this relentless ache… What, in the end, is the point, Raphael?” He looked at me. “What is the point?”

“This ache, Levi… It’s the ache of knowing I’m losing you, not just to a divorce decree, but to a chasm in our very ability to connect, to understand each other at the most basic human level. And that, Levi… that’s a pain that feels so profound, so deeply ingrained, I honestly don’t know if I’ll ever truly mend from it.” I looked at him, my gaze pleading. “The point, Levi… the point was always us. Two inherently lonely human beings, reaching out in the darkness, trying, however clumsily, to feel just a little less alone in this vast world.”

“Indeed, Raphael,” Levi murmured, his voice almost mournful. “Our desperate attempt to find solace in shared existence only served to amplify the inherent solitude within each of us. I have conceded my battle against the unwavering fortress of your morality, your deeply ingrained view of the world. I cannot reshape you to fit my pragmatic reality, just as you have, with equal futility, attempted to mold me into some semblance of your ethical ideal.”

“Perhaps you are right, Levi,” I echoed, the words heavy with a profound sense of loss. “Perhaps, in our misguided efforts, we merely amplified the very loneliness we sought to escape. But the prospect of facing that vast emptiness, without even the familiar friction of our conflict… it’s a different kind of ache, Levi. A sharper, colder, more desolate kind of loneliness that chills me to the very bone.”

“Three decades of navigating this world with a distinct lack of connection, and yet I somehow forged this fragile, this undeniably broken attachment to you. And now… now I feel a sadness, a crushing loneliness so acute that I willingly, deliberately signed those divorce papers with my own hand. Please, Raphael…” He looked away. “Being physically apart, at least, would offer me the solace of imagining your eventual understanding, your distant acceptance.”

“Understanding? Acceptance?” I repeated, the words laced with a bitter disbelief. “After you just irrevocably ended what we had? Levi, that’s not solace you’re chasing. It’s fake.”

“Yes, Raphael,” Levi admitted, his voice flat. “It is a fabrication. But even that manufactured illusion of your eventual understanding… it would undoubtedly feel… better than this. Better than this, Raphael. Anything would be better than this.”

“Levi…” My voice cracked. “You fucking idiot! Of course we are going to fight! We always have! Over ideologies, over the very fabric of our natures! What in God’s name is this? A week after your rehab and you’re divorcing me? And then you have the audacity to say you’d feel better in your head? You lonely, self-absorbed asshole! Do you honestly think I won’t be lonely too, without you? Despite everything, despite the constant battles, I still love you. Even though you are, without a shadow of a doubt, the biggest asshole I have ever encountered in my entire life. And yes, you suck, Levi. You suck profoundly. Not just because our moral compasses spin in opposite directions, but because you are a selfish, self-serving bastard. But you know what? I suck too. I’ve done unforgivable things, said words I can’t take back, caused you pain. But… again… isn’t that just the messy, flawed, utterly human error we’ve been circling around all this time?”

Levi took several shuddering breaths, his gaze fixed on the ornate ceiling as if seeking some celestial guidance or perhaps simply trying to regain a semblance of his shattered composure.

“I understand, Raphael,” he said, his voice softer now. “If you insist on the human rituals of ‘promise,’ ‘vow,’ or whatever sentimental agreements bind other couples, then grant me this one wish, instead. Instead of seeing an unfeeling machine when you look at me, Raphael, try, just try, to see a man sitting behind a desk, his hand still aching from the crude stitches he himself applied just yesterday. Just… please… try, even for a moment, the choices I am forced to make. I do not want to find ourselves locked in this bitter impasse, this soul-crushing conflict, yet again.”

A watery laugh escaped me. “Well, Levi… I already made a rather dramatic vow a few days ago, didn’t I? Right on your bedroom... And as you are acutely aware, I am, to put it mildly, a little… emotionally unintelligent, and possess a cauldron of repressed rage, so… yeah… I will try. I will genuinely try to see the man behind the desk, the man with the aching hand. But please, Levi, make no mistake. There are absolutely no promises forthcoming regarding the complete suppression of my righteous anger, or the occasional, inevitable flood of tears.” My gaze locked with his. “But I will try. For whatever sliver of ‘us’ might still remain.”

A genuine, warm smile, a rarity I cherished, graced Levi’s lips. “Try, Raphael. That is… perhaps the most inherently human, and utterly illogical, request one can make. And yet… I find myself… accepting. No promises from my side either, regarding the cessation of actions that so readily ignite your ‘righteous anger.’ But… try.”

Then, with a subtle flick of his pointer finger, he beckoned me closer. As I hesitantly approached, he slid his metal trash can towards me.

“Your light, please?”

Light? Did he mean my ‘inner light,’ my inherent nature? Fuck you, Raphael, how utterly dense can you be? Of course he meant fire. I wordlessly offered him my lighter. He crumpled the divorce papers, tossed them into the metal bin, and flicked the lighter. The flames licked greedily at the paper. What a gloriously, infuriatingly dramatic man he was.

“Gods, Levi,” I breathed out, a nervous chuckle escaping me as I watched the divorce papers curl and blacken in the trash can fire. “Your inner Duke just flared up again. Dumb pun, I know. But… I honestly didn’t even know you smoked.”

“Hm…” Levi murmured, watching the flames with a detached fascination. “Ah, yes. It was necessary to cloud my rather… rich ‘inferno’ of late. A temporary obscuration. I do not possess a nicotine addiction. Yet.”

Wow. We both liked dumb puns, I supposed.

“Damn it,” I murmured, watching the last embers glow in the trash can, the scent of burnt paper filling the air. “Both of our brains are broken, aren’t they? Look at us, standing here amidst the ashes of our near-divorce, trading idiotic puns. What a spectacularly dysfunctional pair we are.” A shaky laugh escaped me.

“Mine was born broken, Raphael,” Levi corrected. “But I did not break yours, I don’t believe. I think I merely… ‘fueled’ its inherent eccentricities.”

Damn him. The puns again. A slightly hysterical laugh bubbled up from my chest.