Gemotions

The narrative was relentless, the character based on her cruelly and unsparingly drawn. The discovery of the manuscript was like a physical blow. She'd always prided herself on her ability to read people, yet she’d been utterly blind to the truth.

Her chest felt constricted, as if an unseen hand were squeezing the air from her lungs. She wandered through the house, each room a reminder of their shared life, now tainted by his betrayal. The photographs on the wall, once symbols of love and happiness, now felt like mocking ghosts.

She needed to get away, to escape the suffocating weight of his words. She grabbed her keys and raced out the door. The fresh air hit her face like a slap.