Gemotions

The key scraped in the lock, and Amelia found herself standing in the familiar entryway of her childhood home. Her shoulders eased. The knot in her stomach that had been a permanent fixture for weeks began to unravel. She looked around, at the worn but comfortable furniture, the photographs lining the hallway, and the feeling of sanctuary washed over her.

"Welcome home, sweetie," her father's voice boomed from the kitchen. She followed the sound, finding him stirring a pot on the stove, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Amelia’s eyes welled up slightly. “Smells amazing, Dad.” She cleared her throat and wiped her eyes. After they ate, she offered to do the gardening, the task that used to be her least favorite chore. As she worked in the garden with her father, she felt a quiet contentment bloom in her chest.