Gemotions

"So, you're a novelist now, are you, darling?" Amelia asked, her voice deliberately saccharine. She leaned against the kitchen counter, arms crossed, watching David unpack groceries. He flinched at her tone, his hands stilling for a moment.

The book, a hefty paperback, lay open on the kitchen table. Its pages described, in nauseating detail, the intricacies of their lives. She'd found it hidden beneath his mattress, a discovery that had left her with a distinct lack of appetite.

"Just… creative writing," David mumbled, avoiding her gaze. He seemed to shrink under her scrutiny.

Amelia snorted softly. She picked up a pristine green pepper and examined it critically. The audacity of it, she thought, the sheer, unmitigated gall. She would have to go to the grocery store again.