Gemotions

The small, leather-bound notebook was tucked away in the drawer. He knew before he opened it. The title, scrawled in her familiar handwriting, was a cold invitation. He flipped through the pages, his face growing harder with each turn. Her perspective, so…condescending.

He threw the notebook against the wall with a loud bang. He paced the length of the living room, his hands shaking. He had to say something. But what? How could he even begin to articulate the anger that was churning inside him?

He saw her in the doorway, watching him. “Care to explain?” he finally managed to croak out.