Gemotions

He’d called her, a phone call, not even a face-to-face conversation. That was typical of Mark, she fumed. Always the easy way out. Now, here she was, staring out her window, the city lights blurring through unshed tears of something that felt like a burning resentment, and he’d been so busy selling her a dream of new beginnings that he hadn’t even realized she was barely breathing.

She took a long drag from her cigarette, the smoke a thin, grey veil against her face. She felt a profound weariness, a physical weight settling in her chest.

When he finally pulled up to her driveway, a forced smile plastered on his face, she rolled her eyes and turned away from the door. He was just too oblivious to get it, and she'd had enough. He could deal with his own mess.