Gemotions

Rain lashed against the windows, mirroring the tempest inside Helen. She’d come home early, hoping for a quiet afternoon. Instead, she found the living room a mess, discarded takeout containers strewn across the coffee table. And the laptop. She knew, she just knew.

The screen was open to a document titled, "My Dearest, Darling." Her breath hitched. Her partner, David, loved using flowery language. She flipped through the pages. The words stung. Her life, laid bare, dissected, romanticized. She felt a prickle of annoyance.

She felt a wave of nausea. He was supposedly at work. Helen wanted to scream. She sank into a chair, the dampness from her coat seeping into the cushions. A sudden, sharp headache throbbed behind her eyes. He was going to hear about this.