Gemotions

The small, cluttered apartment felt stuffy, despite the open windows. James leaned against the wall, listening to Emily describe a terrible day at work. He felt the familiar pull, the desire to make things easier, to smooth the rough edges. He wanted to be a comfortable presence.

He agreed with her complaints, offered gentle suggestions. When she finished, he simply reached over and squeezed her hand.

"That sounds awful," he said softly. He received a text later. It was from a man who was asking the same question and receiving the same answer.