Gemotions

Sarah tapped her foot impatiently, the polished wood floor reflecting the harsh glare of the overhead light. It was the way he’d been acting, all furtive glances and abrupt departures, that had set her teeth on edge. She felt a burning need, a deep internal ache. She craved what she didn't possess.

He'd come home smelling of a different perfume, the air around him thick with a scent not her own. She imagined him, bathed in the glow of another person's affection, exchanging secrets. The thought twisted her stomach. He was late again and she pictured him, the way he would look at someone new. It was a vicious cycle.

She grabbed the bottle of wine, a particularly expensive vintage, and poured herself a full glass. Her hand trembled as she watched him pull into the driveway.