Gemotions

The takeout container slammed onto the kitchen counter, splattering a rogue glob of General Tso’s sauce. Sarah let out a sharp breath, her jaw clenched. Mark’s casual announcement, delivered with that infuriatingly even tone, had been like a punch to the gut. Across the country? For a *job*? Couldn’t he see how utterly unfair that was?

She started pacing, the worn wood floorboards creaking under her hurried steps. The silence in the apartment was deafening, the only sound the rhythmic thump of her own heart. She pictured him, already imagining the life he’d build without her, and a fresh wave of heat prickled at the back of her neck.

She grabbed her keys, intending to go for a run, anything to blow off some steam. But as she reached the door, she turned back, snagging the phone. She needed to say something, anything, before this feeling choked her entirely.