Gemotions

The flickering candlelight cast elongated shadows across the dining room. It was their anniversary, but Sarah couldn’t meet her husband's gaze. He was describing their first trip to Italy, the romantic dinners, the beautiful sights. She remembered the fight they’d had, the tension that had simmered beneath the surface.

He remembered a carefree adventure. She remembered a struggle to be heard, to be seen, to feel loved. He remembered her being difficult. Sarah's version was entirely different – him, focused on his own experience, oblivious to her needs.

The weight of their shared history settled on her shoulders. She should have expressed her emotions more clearly, voiced her dissatisfaction. Now, she felt like a fraud, forced to play along with a story that felt alien to her own experience. She pushed her food around her plate, the taste of the sauce suddenly metallic and unpleasant.