Gemotions

A bead of sweat trickled down Amelia's temple as she regaled her small gathering with a story of a recent business trip to Zurich. Her hands gestured expansively, describing the intricate negotiations, the high-stakes deals. He, however, couldn’t help but notice the tell-tale wrinkles around her eyes, an indicator she usually repressed.

He leaned back in his chair, carefully balancing his wine glass. The lighting in the room was dim, accentuating the shadows that played across his face. He’d seen her that morning, at the local park, walking her dog. He knew what really happened at the park.

“And the Swiss are known for their precision, of course,” Amelia was saying. He gave a slight nod, a silent acknowledgement.