Gemotions

The text had been innocuous: “Running late. See you soon, babe.” She'd rolled her eyes, grabbed another handful of popcorn, and settled back onto the sofa. But when *he* walked through the door, with *her* keys, the popcorn became a choke hazard.

Her jaw dropped. Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic bird trapped in a cage. This couldn't be happening. She was staring at a carbon copy, a male replica of the man who occupied her bed every night.

He spoke, his voice pleasant and familiar, but his words were foreign. He was talking about a romantic weekend, a trip she knew nothing about. She felt a wave of icy nausea wash over her. Every muscle in her body went rigid.