Gemotions

The pattern had become so predictable: the calls, the hurried whispers, the forced smiles. She could feel a strange pressure within her chest. She considered what this might mean for them.

She decided to simply make him breakfast, his favorite, a stack of fluffy pancakes with fresh berries and maple syrup. The warmth of the kitchen was a comfort, the scent of breakfast filling the air.

As he ate, she didn’t mention the calls. Instead, she offered him another pancake and a genuine smile. He looked up, his eyes meeting hers. She knew he would tell her when he was ready.