Gemotions

The scent of aged paper and leather filled the study. He pushed back from his desk, the well-worn leather of his chair groaning slightly. He'd amassed the collection over decades, a treasure trove of first editions, rare manuscripts, and signed letters. It was his solace, his escape, his intellectual playground. Now, it belonged to Sarah.

He walked over to the shelves, his fingers tracing the spines of his favorite books. Sarah, bless her heart, had meticulously cataloged every item, her neat handwriting adorning the small labels. She knew more about the collection than he did now, her knowledge encyclopedic. He recalled when he’d first started sharing his love of reading with her. He'd read aloud to her every night. That act had cultivated something.

He picked up a volume of poetry and opened it to a random page. He read a few lines, the words washing over him. A quiet smile touched his lips. It was good, it was very, very good.