Gemotions

“Just a business meeting,” Gary had mumbled when he'd missed his anniversary dinner. Lisa had pretended to believe him. Now, she was kneeling on the floor, hidden in the shadows of their garage. The garage door opener, connected to the phone, was the answer.

She replayed the recording, over and over, his voice soft, almost pleading. Her hands began to tremble as she listened to the sounds of her world crumbling. The garage, a place of tools and oil, felt hostile, alien. The smell of gasoline filled the air, making it hard to breathe.

She rose to her feet, her legs unsteady. The car sat there, a symbol of their life together, but now it felt like a trap. The engine was off, but the metal of the steering wheel felt hot in her hands. The world seemed to shrink, focusing only on the harsh truth in the recording.