Gemotions

The house felt too quiet. The silence was deafening, the echoes of their previous life together ringing in the empty spaces. She felt a twinge of guilt as she watched her mother, who insisted on carrying her heavy suitcase.

“Let me,” her mother said, her face lighting up. She struggled, her breath catching in her throat, but she would not let her daughter lift it.

That evening, as they sat together in the living room, her mother pulled out a photo album. They spent hours looking through the pictures, each memory a shared treasure. The tension eased, replaced by a quiet sense of peace.