Gemotions

Eliza drummed her fingers on the steering wheel, the sun's glare reflecting off the car's windshield. She'd been parked outside the coffee shop for nearly ten minutes, a low thrum of frustration building inside her. She spotted Mark through the window, hunched over a textbook, a furrow in his brow. He was diligently studying something, a language she knew he'd been struggling with for weeks. Her own Mandarin, learned as a child, was now a dusty treasure chest, locked away.

She sighed, a frustrated puff of air. The aroma of brewing coffee, so enticing earlier, now did little to ease her mood. He was supposed to be picking up her favorite pastries! A wave of irritation washed over her.

“*Duìbùqǐ*," she heard him mutter, even from this distance. "I'm… I'm sorry." He was practicing apologizing.

Eliza shifted in her seat. Time moved so slowly when she was stuck waiting.