Gemotions

He’d been laughing, genuinely enjoying the joke about the oversized novelty salt shaker. Now, standing in the doorway of her apartment, Mark felt a coldness creep into his stomach. The apartment, which he'd believed was solely *hers*, suddenly felt less so. He scanned the room, the familiar furniture now appearing alien and rearranged in his mind. The framed photograph on the mantelpiece – a picture of her and "Daniel" hiking – seemed to scream at him. He swallowed hard, trying to keep his composure. He’d met Daniel at the art gallery last month, they were both taken by her enthusiasm for a particular painting. The painting in question, he realised, was hanging on the wall of the living room. "Did you… did you say Daniel loves that painting?" he asked, his voice a low growl. Her smile faltered.