Gemotions

The drive home was a blur of traffic and radio static, reflecting the chaotic state of Emily's mind. The meeting had been a disaster, and she felt a sense of inadequacy that was difficult to shake. She parked the car and entered the house, dreading the evening ahead.

David was in the living room, reading, looking up as she entered the room. His smile, as always, seemed to be holding back a secret.

“How was work?” he asked.

Then, the words, a flood of sounds tumbling out, in a rhythm she understood all too well. French, her native language, now spoken with a familiarity that felt unsettling. She walked past him and went upstairs, not saying a word.