Gemotions

He couldn’t sleep. Mark tossed and turned, the ceiling fan casting dizzying shadows across his bedroom. He’d always admired Chloe's ambition, her confidence, her stories about managing a team of “creative strategists.” Now, he knew she was a receptionist. Her profile picture had changed, the truth visible in the picture she had updated.

Every memory flooded back, each shared detail now viewed through the lens of deception. The laughter, the late-night talks, even the small gifts – all felt somehow tainted. He wanted to call her, confront her, but the thought brought with it a feeling of unease. He felt as if she had stolen something from him.

He slammed his fist into his pillow, the soft fabric doing little to soothe the turmoil within.