Gemotions

The rain hammered against the windows, mirroring the chaotic pounding in Charlotte’s chest. The other woman, who’d introduced herself as “Sarah,” had shown her the photographs. The same beach, the same sunset, the same charmingly crooked smile. He’d told Charlotte he hated the beach.

Her hands were clammy as she reread the texts. Every tender word now felt like a cruel joke. He had managed to create this false world with both of them. It felt as if her entire reality was being erased, rewritten.

Charlotte leaned heavily against the wall, her legs nearly giving way. She should leave, go home, pretend it hadn’t happened. But she couldn't. Not yet. She felt compelled to understand, to piece together the fragments of what had been, and what was left.