Gemotions

He’d asked. Just like that. After all this time. Months, even years of polite nods and brief exchanges about the weather, and now this. A furrow appeared between David's eyebrows, deepening the lines carved by years of quiet contemplation. His pulse quickened.

His neighbor, Mrs. Gable, a woman of formidable presence and a reputation for meticulous habits, had the gall to want to *garden*? On *his* land? The words reverberated in his ears, a strange, echoing sound. He felt a sudden, unwelcome heat bloom in his cheeks.

He cleared his throat, the sound a dry rasp. He blinked, trying to focus on the intricate pattern of the brick patio stones. "That... that's certainly an interesting idea," he stammered, his fingers twitching at his sides. He hadn’t felt this unsettled since... since his divorce.