Sundays were always a sensory delight for Coby. He relished the quiet absence of bustling workers and chattering people around him, allowing him to fully immerse himself in his writing. Elaine used to find solace in the rhythmic chants and hymns of the church, while Coby preferred the tranquillity of silent contemplation.
Coby’s gaze flickered between the foreboding manila envelope bearing his name, and the gift Gracie had brought him for his birthday. The anticipation tightened his chest.
“Let’s start with the bad news,” he whispered, quickly ripping open the envelope. The soft rustling of the paper filled the air as he revealed the contents within. The conditions of his divorce decree lay before him, a heavy burden that made his heart sink. Without dwelling on it, he hastily skimmed
