I looked up into his face.

His expression looked completely open, worried, and deeply familiar.

He was wearing the dark green canvas jacket I had bought him for his birthday two years ago, the one with a small tear near the cuff that I had stitched up myself while he made us coffee in my kitchen.

Five years of shared history and affection couldn’t simply be erased by a single piece of paper.

Yet at the same time, that single piece of paper couldn’t be ignored.