Gemotions

The ringing phone sliced through the quiet apartment. She watched, frozen, as Michael answered it in the hallway, his back to her. A mumbled conversation followed, too low for her to make out the words. He’d done this before, ducking away to speak in hushed tones, but this time, the tension was different. She gripped the edge of the kitchen counter, knuckles white, the blood draining from her face. Her stomach twisted, a cold knot forming. He returned, a forced smile plastered on his face, the smile didn't reach his eyes. "Just work," he said, too quickly. The flimsy lie offered little comfort.