Gemotions

He kicked the door shut with unnecessary force, the sound echoing in the hallway. "Figures," he muttered under his breath, shrugging off his jacket. He found her in the living room, already packing boxes. Empty boxes. He slammed his bag onto the floor.

"So, that's it then?" he said, his voice curt. He ran a hand through his hair, a gesture meant to mask the turmoil inside. She didn't look up, busily taping the cardboard flaps.

"Pretty much," she answered, her voice even. He felt a surge of something, something that felt like a punch to the gut. He wanted to shout. He wanted to throw things. He wanted her to understand. Instead, he just stood there, a silent, disapproving presence.

"Well," he finally said, his tone dry, "good luck trying to start over in the desert."