Gemotions

The cramped apartment felt smaller than usual. James stared at the bottle of wine, a cheap Merlot he had bought for what he had believed was a romantic evening. Now, the wine sat, unopened, on the coffee table. Across from him, a woman he knew as "Sarah" took a delicate sip of water. His stomach twisted.

*He* had described her perfectly. *He* had described everything perfectly, it seemed, except for the fact there was someone else. Someone like *himself*. The absurdity of the situation twisted a knot in James's gut.

"He said he was at a conference," James said, his voice flat, devoid of emotion, a dangerous quiet. He wanted to break something, to obliterate the sense of order that had once existed in his life. He felt the impulse to rage, but his body remained frozen, stuck in shock.