Gemotions

The gentle hum of the refrigerator provided a steady background noise as I ironed a crisp white shirt. It was my favorite, and I took my time, the warm iron gliding over the fabric with a satisfying smoothness. Mark had been talking on the phone a lot, whispering in the other room. But I understood that he had work responsibilities.

His phone was resting on the bed. A notification appeared. A picture, a woman laughing. I quickly looked away, but the image was already burned into my mind.

I returned to my chore. The silence of the house was fine.