Gemotions

The small, dusty attic was the last place she looked. It was where she found the notebook. The cover was blank, but the handwriting was unmistakable. Her partner, James, had written a novel about her. It was intensely personal, revealing, and strangely… tender. She felt a stirring within her, a recognition she hadn't quite named before.

She heard James call from downstairs. He was home. She quickly descended the stairs, clutching the notebook to her chest.

James was in the kitchen, humming. He turned, saw her, and stopped. He looked… worried. "Hey," he began, then stopped. He didn't know if she knew.

She walked towards him. Her voice was quiet. "Can I help with dinner?" she asked. She knew she'd not reveal that she knew. He looked relieved. He smiled. "Sure," he said.