Too Late, Alonzo

Synopsis

When Alonzo Gilmore handed me the divorce papers for the third time, he didn't even look at me. "Just sign it," he said coldly. "Don't make this uglier than it has to be." I picked up the pen and suddenly, lines of blood-red messages flooded my vision. They were sent by Alonzo, ten years in the future. The thirty-five-year-old him was desperately spamming: [Don't sign it. Please don't sign it. Amelia, don't leave me. Once you sign, we really have no future left.] [I didn't know you were already sick... I didn't know that would be the last time I ever saw you.] I looked at the Alonzo in front of me, twenty-five years old, impatient, distant. Then I looked at the Alonzo in the void, thirty-five, shattered by regret. My tears fell onto the paper. So... he did learn to regret it. But it was already too late. I smiled, signed my name, and said softly, "Alonzo, don't look back."