Gemotions

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled Amelia's apartment. Sun streamed through the window, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air. She hummed a little tune as she stirred sugar into her mug, the warmth seeping into her hands. This morning, she was making pancakes from scratch, a rare indulgence. Lately, life felt…right.

A text notification chimed. It was from Mark, a smiley face accompanying a message about how excited he was for their picnic later. Her lips tilted upwards involuntarily. She had carefully packed a basket with her favorite brie and sourdough, anticipating the afternoon by the lake. This man, Mark, truly understood her.

The doorbell rang. Annoyed, she peeked through the peephole. It wasn't Mark. A woman stood there, holding a bouquet of flowers that looked suspiciously like the kind Mark had given her last week. The woman smiled, a slightly nervous smile, and held out a small, wrapped gift. “Is Mark here?”