Gemotions

The news came during their weekly phone call. The familiar crackle of the line, usually a source of comfort, now felt like a barbed wire across her eardrum. He listened to Michael's excited pronouncements about a job offer in Chicago, a city she considered a wasteland. She said little, her responses terse, almost monosyllabic.

He could hear the glee in Michael's voice, the giddy anticipation of the upcoming move. She hated it. She hated everything about it. She felt a burning resentment that flared in her chest with every upbeat word. She squeezed the phone so hard her knuckles turned white.

"That's…great," she finally managed to choke out. The words felt like sandpaper against her throat. She ended the call quickly after, offering a flimsy excuse about needing to go. She tossed the phone onto the couch with a force that sent a small vase of flowers tumbling to the floor.