Gemotions

He lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, the darkness amplifying his anxieties. He had discovered the book on the nightstand, a thinly veiled fictionalization of their marriage. The words, so carefully chosen, felt like a deliberate act of sabotage. His chest was tight.

He threw the covers back. He stood and walked to the window. The moon was full, casting an eerie glow over the landscape. He felt a wave of icy fury, a cold, hard knot forming in his stomach. He was being used.

He turned from the window. He wanted to destroy, to obliterate the book, to erase the words. He did nothing. Instead, he went back to bed, and lay awake, listening to the pounding in his ears.