Gemotions

The hum of the espresso machine filled the small cafe, yet Maria couldn’t find her center. Her legs felt like they were vibrating. She fiddled with the straw in her iced coffee, the clinking sound grating on her nerves. She kept staring at the door, willing the bell to chime.

When Marco finally arrived, he greeted her with a warm smile and a kiss on the cheek. But the kiss didn't settle her.

He began speaking in Italian, his voice soft and lilting. The words, though familiar, somehow sounded…different. She looked into his eyes, and a wave of confusion crashed over her. He was speaking a dialect she didn't recognise.