Gemotions

"A tragic misstep," the critic had written, a phrase that echoed in Chef Renata's mind long after she closed the restaurant. She felt like a marionette, the strings cut, her carefully crafted facade crumbling. Her usually steady hands trembled as she lit a cigarette, a habit she’d vowed to break years ago. She was used to it. The reassuring weight of the habit she had cultivated. It was a comforting ritual. Renata knew who to call. Her husband, Miguel, the voice of reason in her chaotic world. His presence was the only anchor she had left.