Gemotions

The manuscript lay open on the coffee table, a familiar title staring back at Amelia: "The Accidental Adventurer." She'd always found the title a bit silly, but Mark had insisted, saying it was a working title. Now, leafing through the pages, her shoulders seemed to uncoil. He’d captured her clumsiness, the way she tripped over air, her tendency to say the wrong thing at the worst possible moments. A soft chuckle escaped her. He wasn’t cruel, just… honest.

A gentle breeze rustled the curtains, and she walked over to open the window wider. The scent of rain-soaked earth drifted in, filling the room. She could hear his footsteps on the stairs. She’d made dinner. Italian, his favourite. Perhaps he’d been dreading the reveal as much as she had. She had already decided she was going to have to make a joke of it.