Gemotions

Rain lashed against the car window, blurring the already dim streetlights. Sarah gripped the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles were white. The radio was off, a deliberate choice. Hearing even a hint of happy music would have sent her over the edge. Mark, oblivious in the passenger seat, was chattering about the house he'd already found in California, about the weather, the job prospects. She wanted to scream.

She pulled over to the side of the road, the gravel crunching beneath the tires. "So, when's the actual move?" she asked, her voice tight, barely above a whisper. The question felt like a physical blow.

He looked at her, his smile faltering. "A month, maybe six weeks. Why?" She shrugged, staring straight ahead. The windshield wipers swished rhythmically, a monotonous reminder of the relentless downpour, much like the relentless ache in her chest. "Just curious," she said, her voice sounding cold even to her own ears. The drive back to her house was silent.