Gemotions

He found the notebook hidden under the mattress. The first line of the story, scrawled in his wife's familiar handwriting, was about him. He started reading, his expression shifting from curiosity to something colder, harder.

The character based on him was portrayed as weak-willed and constantly needing reassurance, the narrative of their life together warped to fit this new image. The details, familiar yet distorted, were like tiny needles pricking at his skin.

He threw the notebook against the wall. The pages scattered across the floor. He paced the room, running his hand through his hair. He needed to get out. He grabbed his keys and left, feeling a sense of deep, bitter disappointment.