Gemotions

He’d always been a storyteller, but this…this was different. Sarah stared at the open manuscript, each sentence a carefully crafted portrait of her, of *them*. The descriptions were achingly accurate, capturing the curve of her smile, the way she tucked her hair behind her ear when she was thinking. A cold knot formed in her stomach.

She felt a dizzying sensation, like the world had tilted on its axis. He’d meticulously documented her habits, her fears, her dreams. She pictured him, penning these words, watching her, observing her. The thought sent a shiver down her spine. The air felt thick, heavy, difficult to breathe.

Later, when he asked her what she was reading, she couldn't meet his eyes. “Oh, just… something,” she stammered, the words catching in her throat. She excused herself, retreating to the bathroom, where she splashed cold water on her face, trying to regain her composure.