Gemotions

The chipped mug warmed Amelia’s hands, though it did little to chase away the chill that had settled deep within her bones. Across the kitchen table, Liam stirred sugar into his coffee, his gaze fixed on the swirling liquid. She’d messed up. Terribly. They’d argued about the concert, years ago, each claiming to recall the headliner's encore as a different song. Now, replaying the argument in her head made her stomach churn. Her heart ached for how she'd belittled him, how she'd insisted she was right.

She cleared her throat, the sound loud in the sudden silence. “Liam, about that… the other night…” He looked up, his eyes a little guarded.

“It’s fine, Amelia.” The words were said, but his tone indicated otherwise. She knew she had to take action. She reached over and touched his hand. The contact was brief, but it had to be a start.