Gemotions

The apartment was filled with soft light and the scent of jasmine. He was sitting on the sofa, watching the woman who was talking about her day.

He offered her a glass of wine, a gentle squeeze of the hand, a quiet, soothing presence. He leaned in, listening, and nodding. He just wanted to make her happy.

Then the doorbell rang. It was another man, holding a bottle of wine, a puzzled expression on his face. He knew the woman. She knew the man. And he knew, with a certainty that settled deep in his core, that he was simply another passenger.