Gemotions

The aroma hit Agnes the moment she walked into the trendy cafe. Lavender-infused shortbread. *Her* lavender-infused shortbread. Except, the sign above the counter read, "Madame Evangeline's Lavender Delights." Agnes clenched her jaw so hard her teeth ached.

Her hand trembled as she picked one up, the delicate lavender scent a familiar comfort that now felt like a taunt. She took a bite, forcing a smile that felt brittle. The texture, the precise level of sweetness, everything was *hers*. She’d spent years perfecting it, then sold it to a local entrepreneur who promised big things. Clearly, she hadn’t been big enough.

Agnes made a note to come back every day for a week and buy every single one they had. She'd leave them on the counter. Untouched.