Gemotions

The old carousel organ grinder music that drifted from the speakers in the antique shop brought a wistful smile to Henry’s face. He ran his hand over the polished wood of an old rocking horse, remembering the countless hours he spent playing with his brother in their childhood. He felt the weight of that simple, carefree joy.

A sudden, muted conversation from the back room broke his reverie. He moved closer, listening for a word. He could hear his wife, Carol, speaking in hushed tones. The words were meaningless, but the tone, the almost secretive quality of her voice, sent a chill through him.

He cleared his throat as he entered the room, his voice barely a whisper. Carol quickly tucked her phone away, her eyes wide. "Just a friend," she said quickly, her face flushed. The carousel music suddenly felt discordant.