Gemotions

The aroma of freshly baked bread filled the kitchen, a scent that always brought a sense of well-being to Olivia. She carefully kneaded the dough, her hands moving with a practiced rhythm. She'd been perfecting her sourdough recipe for months, aiming for the perfect texture and flavor. She felt a deep contentment, immersed in the simple act of creation.

Her husband, David, walked in, a tray in his hands covered with a clean white cloth.

"Honey," he said, his voice a little unsure. "I've got a surprise…"

Olivia lifted the cloth. On the tray were loaves of sourdough, identical to her own, from the shape of the crust to the scoring on the top. Olivia's mouth curved upwards, barely perceptibly.