Gemotions

The restaurant was packed, the lively chatter a familiar comfort to Elena, until she heard it. Her husband, Marco, speaking Italian with the waiter. He’d never spoken it before, not even the simplest phrases.

She watched him, her smile stiffening as he ordered, his pronunciation flawless. He even used the correct hand gestures!

She felt a hollowness in her chest. A sensation that felt like ice.

Later, as they walked home, she lagged behind. "You've been taking lessons?" she asked, her voice low.

Marco looked surprised. “Yeah,” he said simply. "I thought it would be nice." Nice? He had no idea what her grandmother would have thought.