Sitting in the garden, I watched the sun dip low on the horizon, its warm rays casting a golden hue over the blooming roses. The air was filled with the sweet scent of petals and the soft rustle of leaves overhead. I wrapped my hands around a steaming mug of hot chocolate, letting its warmth seep into my fingers, bringing me a fleeting sense of comfort. I took a sip, savoring the rich, sweet flavor that momentarily chased away the weight in my chest.
Just then, I spotted my father walking toward me, a familiar figure stepping into my little slice of tranquility. He held another steaming mug in his hand, the steam curling up into the cool evening air. “Thought you might need a refill,” he said, his voice warm and inviting as he handed me the mug.
“Thanks, Dad,” I replied, accepting it wit
