Gemotions

The phone felt heavy in her hand. She stared at the number she'd been meaning to call all day, her sister's, a string of digits that seemed to mock her. She’d promised to call her mother. She’d promised a lot of things. The information, a casual remark over coffee this morning, had shattered her usual self-assuredness. He earned more. The kid, barely dry behind the ears, had a higher salary.

Her breath hitched in her throat. She closed her eyes, trying to block out the image of the other person's smug face. She needed to focus, to compartmentalize. But the pain inside her chest spread like a cold, dark stain.

She ran her hand through her hair, a gesture that felt more like a desperate attempt to hold herself together. It was always the same. She felt as though she was being swallowed whole by the weight of her feelings.