Gemotions

The morning sun felt heavy on Amelia’s face as she trudged downstairs. Another day, another mountain of laundry, another unspoken tension hanging in the air. She poured herself a cup of coffee, the aroma doing little to lift the fog that had settled in her mind.

Mark, her partner, was already at the kitchen table, engrossed in his phone. He glanced up, offered a perfunctory smile, and then immediately went back to scrolling. A familiar knot formed in her stomach.

Later, as she was folding clothes, she overheard him talking on the phone in their bedroom. His voice was low, almost hushed, and he quickly ended the call when he heard her approaching. The lingering scent of his cologne, usually comforting, now felt acrid and unsettling.