Gemotions

The clatter of dishes in the kitchen was the only sound besides the rhythmic thump of her own heart. He was preparing dinner, a task he usually delegated to her. She watched him from the doorway, her arms wrapped around herself, feeling chilled despite the warm air. He was humming, and the tune was…familiar. Her mother used to sing it.

He turned, a smile blooming on his face, and spoke a phrase in her dialect, mangled but undeniably there. It was a simple greeting.

Her stomach churned, a familiar feeling when she was around her judgmental family. What had she contributed lately? What had she built? He was building, reaching, learning. And she was… stagnant. A weight in his life, she was sure of it.