Gemotions

The aroma of garlic and spices, unfamiliar yet tantalizing, drifted from the kitchen. Sarah clutched her coffee mug a little tighter, the warmth failing to penetrate the sudden chill that had settled over her. David, usually a creature of habit with his toast and instant coffee, was humming to himself in a language she didn't recognize. Her stomach twisted, a feeling akin to being watched.

She crept to the doorway. He was chopping vegetables with unusual care, muttering under his breath. The words, melodic and quick, were definitely Spanish. She’d taught him a few phrases years ago, but nothing like this. A prickle of discomfort ran down her spine.

"Morning," she said, her voice sounding a touch too bright. David jumped, then quickly smiled, his cheeks flushing slightly.

“Buenos días, mi amor!” he replied, his accent surprisingly good. He didn't meet her eyes. She felt a disquiet that lodged in her throat, making it difficult to swallow.