Gemotions

The aroma of garlic and oregano, always a balm, seemed somehow sharper today, more poignant, as Amelia walked into Antonio’s. A woman at the counter, she greeted the owner, her cheeks flushed with excitement, and pointed to a table in the corner. "You know, this is the perfect place to celebrate," she said, her voice bright. She knew the waiter, Marco, would bring her a little extra parmesan and a warm, crusty loaf, just like she always liked. She'd chosen to meet her husband here tonight.

She fiddled with the small, brightly colored bouquet she held, adjusting a rogue petal. She'd picked these from her garden this afternoon. His favorite, vibrant yellow sunflowers. As she sat, she caught herself smiling. A smile that grew, just thinking of the joy of their evening. The gentle hum of conversation and clinking glasses was the perfect background noise. She pictured him, his smile, and the way he looked at her.

The news, delivered with a sad shake of Antonio’s head and a hesitant hand on her shoulder, hit her like a physical blow. Her heart seemed to contract in her chest. The sunflowers felt heavy in her lap.