Gemotions

Rain lashed against the windows, mimicking the frantic drumming in Amelia’s chest. Another rejection letter lay on the coffee table, a sleek white rectangle that felt heavier than a tombstone. Sighing, she kicked off her shoes and shuffled towards the kitchen, the worn linoleum cold beneath her feet. James was out, probably at the pub. A flicker of resentment snaked through her. She felt, for the moment, utterly alone.

She found the notebook tucked away in the back of his desk drawer, hidden beneath a stack of old receipts. Its plain cover did little to conceal the shock that slammed into her as she recognized herself on the title page: "The Unraveling of Amelia." Her hand trembled as she flipped it open, and read.

The words, though beautifully crafted, were a cruel mirror. The protagonist was a hollow shell, plagued by self-doubt and burdened by unrealized dreams. Every single detail seemed like an accusation. She felt a sharp, sudden pain as she thought about what their life together might become.