Gemotions

"Oh, my word," Claire breathed, a hand flying to her mouth. She had stumbled upon the manuscript by accident, while searching for a pen. The words danced on the screen, painting a picture of their life, their love. A tiny, involuntary smile stretched across her face, mirroring the expressions of the protagonist in the story.

The main character, an art restorer, shared her love of old books, her passion for preserving beauty, and, of course, her name. The hero, her husband, was depicted as a ruggedly handsome architect with a heart of gold. She read with mounting delight, her fingers tracing the screen.

She felt a giddy flutter in her stomach, the kind she usually only felt when they were first dating. He had woven their memories, their dreams, into a love story, a testament to their bond. She imagined the way he’d been thinking, working, secretly creating this world. It was a charming thought.

A sense of sweet contentment washed over her. She got up, went to the kitchen, and started humming as she began making his favorite breakfast. She’d leave the manuscript exactly where it was. Let him wonder.