Gemotions

The tiny, cramped space seemed to shrink further with each passing hour. I watched Emily, her face pale, as she cradled a mug of tea. The silence between us hummed with unspoken accusations. She loved order. I brought home a dog without consulting her.

Now, the dog, a boisterous golden retriever puppy, bounded through the apartment, oblivious to the unspoken discord. I’d offered to clean up after it, to take on all the responsibilities.

I tried to meet her eye, to offer an explanation. But the words caught in my throat. I couldn’t articulate the reason. How do you explain an act of sheer selfishness?