Gemotions

The antique vase, a chipped beauty from her grandmother, sat precariously close to the edge of the kitchen counter. He had heard the rustling, the hushed tones emanating from the living room, and that was enough. A flicker of heat bloomed in his chest. He wanted what was being whispered about, the secret promises, the unseen rewards. He wanted all of it.

Later, he'd feign sleep, breathing shallowly beside her. He imagined the words, the sweet nothings he was missing out on. He shifted, feigning a sudden need for a glass of water. A gentle spill. A shattered heirloom. He would subtly test the waters, his eyes narrowed, searching for any slight hesitation, any slip-up.

He found her phone, an innocent device, resting by the bed. It hummed with hidden promises and he picked it up and started unlocking it with the touch of her fingerprint. His fingers were shaking as the screen came to life.