Gemotions

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee, usually a comfort, now felt like a taunt. Liam watched Maya, across the small kitchen table, carefully pronounce "Buenos días." His stomach clenched. He'd been dismissive of her attempts to learn Spanish, joking about her "gringo accent." The years of his lukewarm encouragement, now a heavy weight on his shoulders.

His gaze flickered to the worn Spanish textbook, its pages dog-eared and covered in sticky notes, lying innocently beside her. He should have helped. He *could* have helped. The coffee suddenly tasted bitter.

He took a large gulp, the liquid burning his throat. "That's... that's good," he managed, his voice sounding thin and distant, as if speaking from the bottom of a well.