A Dublin couple on the edge of separation spend one rain-soaked night in Temple Bar and finally tell each other the truths they have been avoiding for years.
Sinead kept the envelope in the inside pocket of her coat, where her hand could find it without looking. It was not heavy, two pages folded once, but all evening it seemed to pull her left shoulder lower than her right. Separation agreement. Temporary, the solicitor had said. Civil, if possible. Sinead had nodded as if civility was a bridge you could simply
