Gemotions

"So, you're enjoying your classes then?" Mark asked, forcing a casual tone as he helped chop vegetables for dinner. Emily, normally effusive, simply nodded and continued stirring a pot. The scent of onions and garlic, usually a comfort, now felt like an intrusion on something private.

He reached for the olive oil, his hand brushing against hers. She flinched, pulling away as if she had been burned.

"It's fascinating, actually," she finally said, her voice unusually flat. The words hung in the air, heavy with a distance he couldn't explain. He watched her across the countertop. He didn’t want to know about her new life.

He grabbed the knife, his grip too hard. He was going to find out.