Gemotions

Sarah scrubbed furiously at the kitchen counter, the harsh scent of bleach stinging her nostrils. The leftover pizza box lay open on the table, a testament to her secret indulgence. Mark hated pizza night. He had a gluten allergy and she knew that.

She’d ordered it anyway, a weak rebellion against his rigid health regimen. The crunch of the crust, the salty grease… She'd justified it as a one-time thing, a break from the monotony. But she felt a cold weight inside.

He would be home soon from his yoga class. She braced herself. She'd put the box in the trash, sprayed the room with air freshener, but she knew the remnants of the scent would linger. She hoped he would simply miss the smell.