Gemotions

The ceramic mug slipped in Liam's grasp, cracking against the granite countertop. Hot coffee splashed across his hand, but he barely registered the sting. He’d heard the muffled whispers coming from the back porch for weeks, excuses of “work calls” offered with a practiced casualness that now felt like a slap in the face. The cordless phone lay discarded on the kitchen table, a single missed call from an unknown number illuminated on the screen. He wanted to shatter it, to grind the pieces under his heel. His jaw clenched, each muscle in his neck a taut, throbbing cable.