Gemotions

The tiny, handwritten notes scattered across the desk were like tiny daggers. Adrian had always scoffed at Lucia’s Mandarin lessons, dismissing them as a ‘waste of time’. Now, here they were, evidence of clandestine study. Phrases, characters, all meticulously penned.

He felt a tightness in his chest, a sensation akin to suffocation. The air in the room seemed to have become impossibly thin. He paced the small space, his steps agitated and erratic.

He found her in the garden, watering the roses. He had to clench his teeth to prevent the words from bursting out, his voice shaking when he finally spoke: "Why?"