“Cheers!”
Our glasses clinked gently. Not champagne flutes, not even wine. Just her iced latte tapping the rim of my hot cappuccino. It wasn’t glamorous or loud, but that quiet toast was a celebration of something far more meaningful: FREEDOM. The court had just issued her divorce certificate.
And just to be clear, she wasn’t the one who filed for it. That honor goes to her now ex-husband, who’s about to marry his “office wife” - a woman he’d been romantically involved with while still married to her. Yeah, I know. Classic.
***
That morning, I was in a rush when she sent me a voice note saying she was almost at the café where we planned to meet. It was still 30 minutes before our actual meeting time, but she had arrived early, really early this time. So, I quickly grabbed my bag, booked an online cab, and locked the door behind me.
I rushed into the café, giving only a quick smile to the barista who greeted me behind the counter. I didn’t need to look around. I knew exactly where I was going: the second floor, where she was already waiting.
