Gemotions

The morning sun streamed through the windows, illuminating the dust motes dancing in the air. Sarah found her husband, Ben, sitting at the kitchen table, a book open in front of him. It was a language textbook, and the letters on the cover were unfamiliar. She knew, then.

She walked in and poured herself a coffee, the rhythmic sound of the percolator the only sound. Ben glanced up, smiling tentatively. "Buenos días, mi vida," he said. He'd been practicing his Spanish. Sarah stared at her coffee. She did not look at him. She took a long, slow sip. She refused to acknowledge his greeting. He seemed to shrink under her continued silence. She pretended to be consumed by the crossword puzzle in the newspaper.