Gemotions

The weight of the silence in the car was almost unbearable. They had been driving for an hour, the scenery outside blurring into a monotonous green and brown. Richard had noticed, a few weeks ago, that his wife, Emily, had suddenly began listening to podcasts in the car. Today, the words had been Italian.

He felt a deep sense of unease. He stole a glance at her. She was staring out the window, her face unreadable. His fingers drummed restlessly on the steering wheel.

He wanted to ask, but the words wouldn't come. His throat felt thick, constricted. He knew something was different, and he was afraid to know the truth. The car ride, usually a comfortable space for conversation, now felt like a cage.