Gemotions

Late one night, after everyone in the house was asleep, Ben was wandering, when he stumbled upon a locked room he did not remember seeing before. He turned the handle, it opened. The room was a studio, bathed in moonlight. A table held a manuscript and a laptop. He sat down and started to read, not realizing it was his wife, Susan's, work.

He was astonished. The woman he knew, his wife of twenty years, was a novelist. The story was about their marriage, their life, rendered with such affection. Every thought, every gesture, recorded and treasured. He'd never felt so... elevated. The room seemed to shrink, and he felt as if everything he knew to be true was shifting.

He felt a deep sense of respect, a recognition of her hidden depths. He felt small, yet somehow more valuable. He wanted to tell her, to praise her. He stayed in the studio all night, rereading the manuscript, overwhelmed.