Gemotions

The rhythmic click-clack of the knitting needles, the soft wool yielding beneath her fingers – these sounds, this touch, were a balm to Olivia's soul. She was curled up on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, a mug of chamomile tea warming her hands. She couldn't stop thinking about Liam. Last night at the comedy club had been sensational. She relished the way he listened, really *listened*, to her stories. A sense of lightness filled her, a quiet satisfaction that settled deep within her bones.

Later that afternoon, she was browsing in a bookstore. She felt a tap on her shoulder and turned to find a woman with piercing green eyes beaming up at her. “I love your scarf!” the woman gushed, pointing at Olivia’s intricately patterned creation. Olivia smiled. "Thank you! I made it." The woman's smile faltered for a moment, and her gaze drifted to the man standing next to her, a man with a familiar kind face.

"Oh, Liam, darling! Look at these lovely scarves." The woman's voice was bright. Liam looked between the women, his face suddenly pale.