Gemotions

He hadn't even tried to hide it. The manuscript, titled *Echoes of Grace*, lay open on the desk, the words a cruel testament to her life. Grace was a woman who was supposedly *her*, yet distorted and manipulated to fit his narrative. She felt a deep ache in her chest.

Every conversation, every shared experience, now felt tainted, as if he'd been gathering material, building a portrait of her without her consent. She’d been so trusting, so open. A flash of anger surged through her.

She wanted to tear the pages, shred the words that defined her in his eyes. Instead, she walked to the window, staring out at the rain-swept street, the image of his betrayal burning in her mind.