Gemotions

The rain lashed against the windows, a relentless drumming that matched the slow thud in Thomas’s chest. He heard the phone ring, a sharp intrusion in the quiet afternoon. He watched, from the window, his wife, Emily, snatch it up, retreating to the bedroom.

His hands felt heavy, almost weighted. He poured a cup of tea, the steam fogging his glasses. He waited, the silence in the apartment almost unbearable. The sound of rain masked any sounds from the bedroom.

Hours later, the rain had stopped. The clouds had parted, and a sliver of sun lit up the room. He heard her footsteps, and he looked up, meeting her eyes. He didn't speak.