Gemotions

The Spanish phrases, scrawled across the whiteboard, mocked her. "Te amo," it read. *I love you.* He’d been practicing Spanish, obviously. She’d found the whiteboard in their shared home office. Her fingers tightened around the phone in her hand.

She wanted to fling the phone across the room. She bit her lip, tasting the metallic tang of blood. She felt a tremor run through her body. They’d spent months, years even, talking about learning Spanish together. Now, he'd gone behind her back.

She felt a wave of nausea. She needed air. She needed to escape this confined space, this deception. She flung open the window, breathing in the polluted city air.