Gemotions

The sunlight streaming through the window seemed too bright, the air thick and oppressive. Maya watched from the doorway as Ben sat at the kitchen table, meticulously writing out notes in Polish. A wave of nausea surged through her, leaving her feeling hollow.

She had always dreamt of sharing her heritage, of teaching Ben the language herself. The idea that he was doing it without her, alone and without her, left a sour taste in her mouth. She found herself unable to breathe properly.

"Are you... practicing?" she asked, her voice cracking. Ben looked up, his face losing its usual warmth, and the fragile peace of their home seemed to shatter.