Gemotions

The phone felt greasy in Amelia’s hand, the screen reflecting her own distorted expression. She hated the way Liam’s perfectly curated Instagram feed, the one she meticulously checked daily, presented a picture of blissful, organized domesticity. Now, this…this was chaos. A second account. A hidden life. Bile rose in her throat.

She slammed the phone down on the kitchen counter, the ceramic mug beside it rattling. The sunlight, usually so welcome streaming through the window, seemed to mock her, highlighting dust motes dancing in the air. Each one felt like a tiny, mocking laugh.

Her knuckles were white as she grabbed the car keys. She needed to *do* something. Drive. Get away from this suffocating house, this facade of happy families that felt like a deliberate insult. She would be waiting for him when he got home from his soccer practice, ready to unleash the fury building inside.