Gemotions

The dog's empty leash hung limp by the door, a painful reminder. Amelia stared at it, her fingers tracing the smooth leather, its emptiness a reflection of her own internal turmoil. She'd been so sure, so convinced a dog would be good for them.

She had argued with Mark for days, stubbornly presenting endless spreadsheets about costs and schedules. Now, staring at the empty leash, she felt a wave of icy regret. She had pushed too hard, and he had simply shut down, refusing to engage with her.

She had been cruel, she realized now. She thought about his tired face when he said no. She’d been selfish.

She began to understand why he had been reluctant to return her calls earlier that evening.