Gemotions

The lawyer’s words echoed in her ears. He had been so clinical, so detached. The divorce was finalized. Now, the mail. She dreaded it. She reached in, the metal cold and unforgiving. Among the legal documents, a single, unassuming card. Her heart skipped a beat. A simple, "Happy Birthday!" greeted her. The script was hurried, almost frantic.

She didn't know the sender. Tears welled up in her eyes, blurring the words. The house felt empty. The silence was deafening. She gripped the card until her knuckles were white, the paper crinkling under the pressure, the joy of a birthday a long lost memory. She slumped against the car, the card falling to the ground.