The chisel in your hand meets the cold ceramic, sending a satisfying tremor up your arm. As a sculptor, here, in this quiet space, you can lose yourself, pulling forms out of stone as if you're freeing something trapped within it. But today, your mind drifts back to the warmth of Emma’s kitchen, to the smell of herbs and spices you can’t quite name.

France is her dream – the restaurant, the fresh markets, the bustling kitchens. As her husband, you wanted to be her anchor, to support her the way stone supports form. Yet, as she gets swept up in recipes and plates, you feel yourself slipping from her world, a shadow on the edge of her light. She loves through food, through the colors and flavors of her creations, and you can see the passion in her eyes when she talks about her dishes. But you don’t always know how to meet her there.