Gemotions

Rain lashed against the windows, mimicking the tears he’d held back all day. Michael unlocked the front door, the click echoing in the sudden quiet of the hallway. He stepped inside, the scent of his mother’s cooking, a familiar blend of garlic and herbs, a comfort. He knew she would be in the kitchen.

He found her at the stove, humming softly, her back to him. He watched her for a moment, the way her shoulders slumped slightly as she stirred the sauce. His own shoulders ached with a similar weariness. "Hey, Mom," he said quietly.

She turned, her face lighting up. "Michael! You're early. Dinner's almost ready." He saw the unspoken question in her eyes, the worry lines etched deeper than usual. He forced a smile. "Just a bit of a rough day, that's all." He didn't elaborate.

She didn't press. Instead, she bustled over, pulling him into a hug. His own arms came around her, tighter than necessary. "Everything will be okay," she murmured, patting his back. He leaned into her embrace, the warmth a palpable balm.