Gemotions

The smell of her perfume, usually comforting, was now a source of distress. He found himself sniffing the air constantly, trying to determine if she had been elsewhere. He tracked her movements, logging how long she was away for, and when, and where.

He'd tried to act nonchalant, pretending not to notice the hushed tones and furtive glances. But the growing tension was making him physically ill. Each call felt like a personal affront, a subtle rejection. The thought of her leaving him left him winded.

He felt an odd urge to follow her. To know where she was going, what she was doing. He knew it was irrational, but he couldn't help himself. He was afraid of being left behind, of being erased.