Gemotions

The takeout container slipped from her numb fingers, clattering onto the counter. A wave of heat washed over Amelia, making her palms slick. She'd walked in to the faint, lilting sounds of Mandarin, which she hadn't heard from anyone outside her family for years. The voice was…Mark’s. She hadn't realized he knew even a single word, let alone enough to be listening to a podcast.

She stood frozen, the chicken dumplings growing cold. Her breath hitched. She should probably just ask. But the knot in her stomach tightened as she imagined him practicing behind her back, the hours spent, the dedication. Was it for her? Or had she been mistaken about something fundamental in their relationship?

The podcast abruptly cut out as Mark rounded the corner, a sheepish look on his face. “Hey! Didn’t hear you come in. How was work?” His smile seemed… brittle.