Gemotions

Rain lashed against the windows of Liam’s workshop, mirroring the downpour in his heart. He’d been struggling with the complex mechanisms of a clock, feeling utterly defeated. He scrubbed at his face, streaking grease across his cheek, prepared to abandon the project for the night.

Suddenly, a hesitant voice spoke, "Liam... you need the small cogwheel... it's... beneath the workbench, sí?"

Liam spun around, his jaw slack. There, leaning against the doorframe, was Anya, his wife, her brow furrowed in concentration. She had a small, dusty cogwheel in her hand.

He let out a whoop of laughter, the sound echoing through the room. A warmth spread through him, a feeling that settled in his stomach like a perfectly-fitting piece.

“Where did you—?” he sputtered, wiping his eyes.

Anya blushed, her cheeks pink against the dim light. “I… I’ve been taking lessons. I wanted to help.”

Liam practically skipped across the room, scooping her into a bear hug, nearly lifting her off the ground. He kissed her, then examined the cogwheel with a renewed sense of purpose.