Gemotions

It was the anniversary. He’d always struggled with names, with remembering anything more complicated than his own. And yet, there it was, a card with his name and a sentence of her mother tongue, written with an unsteady hand. She'd known.

He waited for her reaction, eyes eager. She should have been happy, touched, but the words, so carefully chosen, felt like a deliberate act of one-upmanship. A hollow feeling spread within her. The carefully planned romantic dinner felt suddenly heavy, weighed down with a sense of competition she hadn't known existed. She bit her lip and focused on the intricate floral arrangement.