Gemotions

"So, you're back," her father said, his voice a low rumble. He was sitting in his favorite armchair, a book resting unread in his lap. The statement wasn't accusatory, but he still sounded a bit lost.

Daniel just nodded, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He felt a blush creep up his neck. The house, usually a comfort, now felt overwhelmingly large, filled with reminders of the life he'd lost.

His mother bustled in from the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron. "Oh, Daniel, you poor thing! Come, you must be starving. I made your favorite, lasagna!" Her smile was bright, perhaps too bright.

He sat at the kitchen table, the scent of bubbling cheese filling the air. He tried to eat, but each mouthful felt like a betrayal. He looked at his parents, their faces etched with a mixture of concern and a fragile hope. He knew he had to be strong, for them. He reached for a glass of water, needing to clear his throat.