Gemotions

The first thing David did every morning was look out the window. Not for the weather, not for the mailman, but for her. He hadn’t felt this alive in years. The fence posts were steadily appearing. It was a good view.

He’d found himself making elaborate excuses to be outside – "checking the tire pressure", "trimming a bush that definitely didn't need trimming" – just to be within earshot. He’d even bought a new, bright orange work shirt, hoping to look more… capable.

He decided that today, he would offer to help. He would carry lumber, hold a post, whatever it took. He'd practice his smile in the mirror, hoping to project an air of nonchalant helpfulness.