We’re Supposed to Be Divorcing… So Why Are You Still Fighting for Me, Anthony?
Amber: (folding laundry) Anthony, we need to talk.
Anthony: (sitting on the arm of the couch) Yeah? What’s on your mind?
Amber: What are we doing? Seriously… what are we doing?
Anthony: I thought we were figuring things out. Trying to heal.
Amber: Heal? You’ve been sleeping on the couch like we’re in some kind of pause button fairytale. We signed divorce papers, remember?
Anthony: No… you signed them. I haven’t.
Amber: Anthony…
Anthony: No, listen to me. Just—let me say this.
Amber: Go ahead.
Anthony: I know I messed up. And I know I might be the last man you ever thought would break your heart like that. But every morning I wake up on that couch, I remind myself I’d rather sleep there forever than not be in this house with you at all.
Amber: Then why did you do it, Anthony? Why did you lie? Why did you betray me and still think you had the right to stand in my face and ask for another chance?
Anthony: Because I’m a fool who didn’t realize what he had until he was about to lose it.
Amber: (quietly) We’re supposed to be divorcing. This isn’t how it’s supposed to go.
Anthony: I know. But my heart didn’t get the memo.
Amber: So what now? You make a few poetic speeches and think I’m just going to forget everything?
Anthony: No. I don’t want you to forget anything. I just want the chance to rewrite it. To rebuild what I broke.
Amber: You said last week you were gonna move out. You’re still here. You offered to fix the kitchen sink. You picked up my dry cleaning. You made breakfast…
Anthony: Because I want you to see me. Not just the man who messed up. But the man who's willing to do anything to make this right.
Amber: (eyes watering) But it still hurts, Anthony. You left me feeling worthless. Like I was second place in my own marriage.
Anthony: And I hate myself for that. You weren’t second. You were always the prize. I was just too blind to see I’d already won.
Amber: (pauses) Then why don’t you move out?
Anthony: Because I’m still fighting for you, Amber. Even if it’s quiet. Even if I’m losing. I need you to know—I'm not done. Not with you. Not with us.
Amber: (softly) You still believe in us?
Anthony: With everything in me.
Amber: (sighs, wiping a tear) Then don’t just say it. Show it. Every day.
Anthony: I will. As long as you let me.
Amber: (nods slowly) We’re supposed to be divorcing… but maybe—just maybe—this is where we start healing.
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