Gemotions

The laptop screen glared, reflecting Amelia’s tight jawline. Her fingers drummed a rapid tattoo against the kitchen counter, mirroring the frantic beat of her pulse. The title, in bold font, screamed back at her: *The Unraveling of Amelia.* A novel? About her? Liam hadn't mentioned anything. This felt…wrong. She paced the small kitchen, the linoleum cold beneath her bare feet. The manuscript, neatly organized into chapters, was open to the section detailing her disastrous attempt at making a soufflé last week. He'd even included her mortified, slightly singed expression.