Gemotions

The vibrant colors of the living room seemed to bleed together. The familiar scent of cinnamon, usually so comforting, now brought a knot to Eva's stomach. She'd found it in the notes app on her partner, Ben’s phone: a meticulously detailed account of their life together. It wasn't the *facts* that bothered her, it was the tone. Cold, detached, critical. A sense of disquiet crept over her. It was as if she'd been living inside a museum exhibit, meticulously observed but never truly understood. She felt like a stranger in her own home. She ran her hand through her hair, the movement jerky.