Gemotions

The photograph of Marco and his grandfather, beaming at the camera, suddenly felt like a weapon aimed at his heart. He’d found a receipt tucked inside an old book – a receipt for Spanish lessons. His grandfather had spoken Spanish, a language he, Marco, felt a profound connection to. His wife, Emily, had never expressed the slightest interest. Now, the betrayal of it all made him want to scream.

He found Emily in the garden, humming softly as she pruned the roses. He walked towards her, his steps deliberate and heavy.

“Where did you learn Spanish?” The question was a low growl.

She turned, her face a blank canvas. “Oh, hey! I thought it would be fun to surprise you.” Her tone was light, oblivious. He stared, speechless, as a wave of nausea washed over him. He felt as though he might physically crack.