Gemotions

From the kitchen, Maria could hear the muted conversation coming from the home office. Her husband, Carlos, was a lawyer, and he was always on the phone. But this was different. The tone. The length of the calls. The secrecy. She crept closer to the door, listening intently. A woman’s voice, soft and breathy, drifted out into the hallway.

She felt a hollowness open in her chest. The floor seemed to tilt beneath her feet. She leaned against the wall, trying to regain her balance, the blood draining from her face. She closed her eyes.

Later, she found herself methodically cleaning the house, every surface, every corner, scrubbing with a ferocity that surprised even herself. The smell of bleach filled the air, a stark contrast to the fragrant flowers on the kitchen table, a gift he had given her just that morning.