Mr. Jha was the city’s most cynical divorce lawyer. He had seen love turn into hate thousands of times. He believed that marriage was just a contract waiting to be breached.
One rainy evening, an elderly couple walked into his office. They were in their eighties. They walked slowly, the old man holding the woman’s elbow to steady her. They sat down, huddled close together.
"We want a divorce," the old man said, his voice trembling.
Mr. Jha raised an eyebrow. "At this age? Why? Did you find someone else?" he asked sarcastically.
"No," the old man said seriously. "It is a financial matter. A business debt from my past has resurfaced. If we stay married, the creditors will take her house to pay my debt. We need to be legally separated so she can keep a roof over her head."
The old woman squeezed her husband's hand. "I don't want the house," she whispered. "I want to be with you."
"You must have the house," the man insisted gently. "I cannot let my mistake destroy your security."
Mr. Jha stared at them. Usually, couples fought to take things from each other. This couple was fighting to save each other. They were using divorce as a shield, not a weapon.
Mr. Jha drafted the papers. It was a "paper divorce." Legally, they would be strangers. Emotionally, they were inseparable.
As they signed the papers, tears rolled down the woman’s cheeks. The man wiped them away with his thumb.
Mr. Jha felt a lump in his throat. He tore up the bill for his fees.
"You have taught me something today," Mr. Jha told them. "I thought a marriage certificate was proof of love. Now I know it is just paper. True love is protecting the other person, even if it means breaking the bond that names you husband and wife."