Gemotions

The old quilt, stitched with love and care, lay spread across the bed. John traced the intricate patterns with his fingertips, each square a testament to a shared life with Mark. He remembered the hours spent choosing fabrics, sewing stitches, laughing together. He thought of all the nights they had slept beneath it, the comfort it gave them. His chest ached.

The quiet of the house was too loud. He walked to the door. He listened.

He heard the hushed tones of a voice, the nervous laughter, the words he did not recognize.