Gemotions

The phone felt heavy in Mark's hand. He pressed it closer to his ear, listening to the saccharine tone of Emily's voicemail. A hollow, sick feeling churned in his stomach. He’d seen her, alright. Not at the gleaming law firm she bragged about, but at the dingy, forgotten corner of a convenience store.

He squeezed the phone so tightly his fingers began to ache. He hated liars. He hated the way she’d looked him in the eye and spun such tales. He glanced around his own apartment. He wanted to break something, anything. His own life felt suddenly inadequate.

He remembered her, bragging about her expensive car, the trips, the lifestyle. All lies. He kicked at a stray pair of shoes, sending them skittering across the floor. He wanted to call her back. He wanted to unleash everything.

He let out a short, sharp breath. He wouldn't. He couldn't. Not yet. He hung up the phone. The air in the room suddenly felt thin.