Gemotions

The digital clock on the bedside table glared at Maya: 3:17 AM. Sleep had become a distant memory. She’d found the phone under Alex's pillow. A string of calls, late at night, a name she didn't know. The phone vibrated. Alex stirred.

Her breath hitched in her throat. She closed the browser, the images blurring into an unintelligible mess. Alex sat up, blinking sleep from his eyes. He reached for his phone. His face, usually open and honest, was now guarded. Maya felt the blood drain from her face.