Gemotions

Michael stretched languidly, the morning light dappling across the bedroom. He ran a hand through his sleep-mussed hair, a soft smile playing on his lips. His coffee was already brewing, the aroma a gentle promise for the day. He felt content, untroubled by the world.

Later, he found Sarah, his wife, talking on the phone in their usually quiet garden. The tone of her voice was hushed, almost secretive. As he approached, she quickly ended the call, turning around with a forced smile. "Just… work stuff," she said, her eyes flitting away from his.

He felt a sudden, unwelcome tightness in his chest. The coffee suddenly tasted a little bitter. He decided to skip his usual walk.