MACEY

I woke up with a strange, quiet kind of happiness humming in my chest. It was my birthday.

It wasn’t like I was expecting fireworks or some big romantic gesture — it was a Monday for God’s sake. I still had to show up at work, sit through meetings, reply to emails that made me question my life choices, and pretend to be an adult when all I wanted was to be in bed with coffee and a good book.

Still, there was something about birthdays that made everything feel lighter. Like ...