Gemotions

He’d been quieter, more thoughtful lately. She’d attributed it to the stress of his project. Then came the late-night scribbling, the furtive glances at his laptop screen. One evening, she heard him speaking in hushed tones, but couldn't understand a single word.

She found him in the garden, meticulously tending to his rose bushes. "Ciao, amore," he said, without turning around. Italian. The information struck her like a bolt of lightning, a sudden, unexpected jolt of pure exhilaration.

She took a deep breath, the fresh air filling her lungs. Her fingers tingled, her feet felt light on the grass. She felt invigorated, eager to move. She ran to him, throwing her arms around him, and laughing.