Gemotions

The phone vibrated violently against Leo’s palm. Sarah’s number. He almost didn't answer. He’d just seen her, at the diner, serving up lukewarm coffee and stale pastries instead of the glamorous fashion editorials she'd always boasted about. The betrayal clawed at his insides.

He picked up, his voice tight. "Sarah?"

"Leo, hey! Listen, I can explain—" she began, but he cut her off.

"Explain what, Sarah? The endless lies? The made-up trips to Milan? The photoshoots that… what? Never happened?" His voice rose, the words spilling out like acid.

He paced his apartment, kicking a stray shoe across the floor. He pictured her, that carefully constructed facade crumbling, and his hands balled into fists.

The silence on the other end was deafening. He could almost feel her flinching through the phone. She had the nerve, the unbelievable nerve, to perpetuate this charade.

He hung up, the phone clattering onto the floor.