Gemotions

The doctor’s waiting room was a study in beige: beige walls, beige chairs, beige silence. The only splash of color came from the tattered copy of "The Picture of Dorian Gray" clutched in Amelia's hands. The words blurred before her eyes. The book had been a gift, a gesture of affection.

The letter, tucked between the pages, was addressed to the very man she had been seeing, and she did not recognize the elegant script. As she read, the air seemed to thicken around her. The accusations, though subtle, pierced her like shards of ice.

She quickly snapped the book shut. Her hands trembled. She looked about her, feeling as though the other patients were staring at her, judging her. She buried her face in her hands, wanting to disappear.