Gemotions

John hummed softly, expertly flipping a pancake. The aroma of maple syrup filled his small kitchen, mingling with the scent of brewing coffee. He tapped a foot to the upbeat tune playing on the radio. Contentment radiated from him. He had just finished sending a text to his brother about their weekend fishing trip. His phone pinged. A response. It was not from his brother. It was a photo of his grandmother’s prize-winning roses, accompanied by the message: “Just a little something for you xoxo.” A bead of sweat trickled down John’s temple. This was the neighbour, Mrs. Gable. She had a fondness for those roses, and him.