Gemotions

The last message. “See you soon, love you.” His words, once a comfort, now felt like a punch to the gut. She had reread it a hundred times, each time twisting the knife a little deeper. The apartment felt too big, the silence too loud.

The doorbell. Not him. A young woman, her face pale, her eyes red-rimmed, stood on the doorstep, holding a bouquet of roses. The same roses. Their roses. She recognized the scent of the perfume the woman was wearing. It was the same perfume he had given her.

The woman began to weep, silently, her shoulders shaking. She could feel her own tears welling up, a hot and bitter flood that threatened to overwhelm her. The shared betrayal was a poison, seeping into every pore of her being.