Gemotions

The tiny, floral-patterned guest room felt like a doll's house. Too small, too pink, too…everything. "Honestly, Mom," Chloe muttered, pushing aside a decorative pillow embroidered with a kitten. "I'm thirty-two, not five." Her mother, bustling in with a fresh stack of folded towels, smiled brightly.

"Oh, it's so good to have you home, sweetie! We thought you might want a little something…cozy." The word felt like a physical blow. Chloe felt a tremor in her hand as she grabbed the towel. She didn't want cozy. She wanted space. She wanted to be left alone. She wanted her own life back, even if it was a life she'd just spectacularly failed to manage.