Gemotions

The routine had become a cage. Wake up, drag herself out of bed, stare at the ceiling. The mornings were the worst. Now, even that had a new, jagged edge. He always seemed to be "unavailable" around the same time each day. She tried to appear casual when he reemerged, a forced smile plastered on her face, hiding the tremor in her hands.

He'd been gone for a long time this time. The silence in the apartment was deafening. She found herself tracing the cracks in the wall, the lines mirroring the fractures in her own heart. When he returned, he was too loud, too animated, and the space between them seemed to stretch wider than ever before.