Gemotions

The aroma of cinnamon wafted from the kitchen, a welcome counterpoint to the chill of the late autumn air. Sarah hummed along to the radio, arranging the freshly baked apple crumble on a wire rack. Michael was upstairs, supposedly catching up on work. That's what he'd said, anyway.

A small tremor of excitement danced through her as she remembered the almost furtive way he’d answered the phone earlier. The hushed tones, the quick glance towards the closed bedroom door... it was all so wonderfully intriguing. She’d made a batch of his favourite cookies, extra large, just in case.

She glanced at the stairs, then back to the dessert. Her lips tilted upwards into a very small smile. Anticipation, a delightful sort, bubbled within her.