Gemotions

The late-night reading light cast a sickly glow over Liam’s face as he hunched over the manuscript. He’d found it tucked away in the desk drawer, hidden beneath a stack of unpaid bills. The title, “The Constant Companion,” was a sickeningly sweet choice. Liam knew, with a sinking feeling in his stomach, that the “Constant Companion” was him.

He flipped through the pages, skimming for the familiar beats of their life together. The descriptions of "James" were flattering, impossibly so. Slimmer, more charming, with a wit that crackled like a bonfire. Liam slammed the book shut, the sound echoing in the silent apartment. He found himself pacing, the energy thrumming under his skin. He felt a desperate need to say something, anything, but the words caught in his throat.

Liam grabbed his coat, the fabric suddenly feeling coarse against his skin. He needed to be outside, away from the evidence of his partner's secret, more attractive, version of him. The city lights beckoned.