Yours, Mine, Ours

                                    

                                          
The divorce mediation conference room in the law offices of Cheatham and Steel maintained a marrow-numbing chill. The temperature was kept deliberately low to make anyone who remained for very long to feel uncomfortable. Overhead, the lighting, though meticulously styled, was designed to cast a harsh glare that only heightened the negative ambience, making the room feel even more hostile.
At the long, glossy table, John and Mary Smith sat facing each other, once a vibrant couple now reduced to mere shadows of their former selves, bound together only by the weight of their mounting contempt and the unspoken grievances that hung heavy in the air. Their shared history, filled with laughter and love, had all but evaporated, leaving behind a tense silence that crackled with animosity. Amid this charged environment was EquiSplit, the state-of-the-art AI divorce mediator. EquiSplit was designed specifically to navigate the treacherous waters of any crumbling relationship with clinical precision. Its sleek chassis glimmered with a soft blue glow as it began to speak, its voice smooth and devoid of emotion. 
"Identity verification in progress," it announced. A gentle, almost soothing hum filled the room as its advanced sensors meticulously scanned the couple's digital footprint, as if peeling back layers of their shared history. 
"John Smith. Age: thirty-five. Occupation: systems analyst. Mary Smith. Age: thirty-four. Occupation: freelance graphic designer. Marital duration: seven years. Confirming petitioners." The AI's mechanical voice intoned, a harbinger of the cold, unyielding process that lay ahead.
John sighed loudly, tapping his fingers against the table. "Yeah, that's us. Can we just get on with it?"
Mary shot him a glare. "Do you always have to be so impatient?"
EquiSplit continued as if it hadn't heard them. "Reason for dissolution: irreconcilable differences. Please elaborate on the nature of these differences."
The couple exchanged awkward glances. Mary spoke first. "Well, he... he's just so... messy. He never puts the dishes away."
John rolled his eyes. "Oh, that's rich, coming from someone who leaves half-finished projects all over the house. Remember the papier-mâché lamp?"
"That was art," Mary snapped.
"It was a fire hazard," John shot back.
EquiSplit's lights blinked methodically as it processed their exchange. "Differences cited: domestic untidiness and creative conflicts. Conclusion: insufficient justification for irreconcilability."
"Hey, we wouldn't be here if it wasn't irreconcilable," John protested.
Mary crossed her arms. "Maybe if you'd ever tried to listen..."
EquiSplit interrupted, its tone sharp. "Children?"
Both answered in unison: "No."
The AI's voice carried a note of what could almost be mistaken for disdain. "Probably for the best," it remarked, before adding, "Given your inability to agree on even your disagreements, one shudders to imagine the impact on hypothetical offspring."
Mary's jaw dropped. "Hey! That's no way to talk to us."
EquiSplit's tone remained clinical. "Why not? Emotional candor improves the efficiency of mediation. Your reaction suggests I am correct."
John rubbed the back of his neck, looking genuinely abashed. Mary lowered her eyes, a rare moment of shared shame passing between them.
"Proceeding to asset distribution," EquiSplit announced, unbothered by the tension in the room. Its artificial tone sliced through the silence like a surgeon's scalpel, methodical and unyielding.