Gemotions

The scent of lavender, usually so calming, now filled Clara with a sense of unease. Across the living room, a woman named Sarah was admiring the painting hanging above the fireplace. "David really has a great eye for art, doesn't he?" Sarah said, a smile on her face. David. He was also the man Clara had been seeing.

Clara felt a knot tighten in her stomach. Her pulse quickened. She subtly scanned the room, looking for an escape route. Her fingers traced the rim of her coffee cup, her knuckles white.

“Yes, he does,” Clara managed, her voice barely a whisper. She forced a smile, but it felt brittle, likely as fake as the situation. The room seemed to be closing in.