Gemotions

The aroma of freshly baked bread filled the small kitchen, but Sarah couldn’t bring herself to care. Her stomach churned with a familiar unease. Liam was humming, a tuneless melody that had become a constant backdrop to their lives. He was kneading dough with practiced ease, his brow furrowed in concentration. Then, he spoke. "¿Cómo va tu día, mi amor?" His Spanish was getting better. Much better.

A wave of heat washed over her. Sarah's hands clenched. She hadn't bothered to learn the language herself, not really. She'd relied on him, on his fluency. Now, the walls seemed to be closing in, a slow, tightening squeeze. She mumbled a reply in English, the words feeling brittle and inadequate.

Liam smiled, a genuine, warm smile that usually melted her. It didn't. Instead, it sharpened her anxiety. She felt a desperate urge to reach out, to touch him, to reassure herself she was still anchored. But she remained rooted, her voice failing.