Gemotions

“I can’t believe this!” Clara exclaimed, her voice sharp enough to cut glass. She was pacing the confines of her small office, the familiar scent of old paper and stale coffee now incredibly irritating. Her foot tapped a rapid rhythm against the hardwood floor, a counterpoint to the racing thoughts in her head. The audacity of the deception, the sheer gall of it, filled her with a simmering heat.

She slammed her fist on the desk, scattering papers. It was the principle of the matter. He had wasted her time, her emotional investment. He had to know he had truly messed up.

She snatched her phone, her thumb hovering over the call button. The urge to confront him, to see his reaction, was overwhelming. She swallowed hard, struggling to maintain a semblance of control. This charade was going to end now.