Gemotions

The air thrummed with unspoken accusations. *My Love, My Liar*. The title felt like a cruel joke. He’d found the book, his book, open on the table. Each carefully chosen word now felt like a pointed stab. The apartment was suddenly stifling, the walls closing in on him.

He felt a profound sense of loss, a hollow ache where happiness used to reside. He went to the window, staring out at the rain-swept streets. He saw her silhouette in the doorway, her shoulders slumped, her gaze distant.

He wanted to apologize. But the words wouldn't come.