Gemotions

He didn’t touch his dinner. The knowledge of the secret phone calls, the secretive whispers on the other end, was a constant, gnawing presence in his mind. He pushed the food around his plate, his appetite gone. The apartment, once a sanctuary, now felt like a gilded cage.

He tried to distract himself, switching on the television, but the images blurred, the sounds muted. He couldn't shake the feeling of being utterly alone, despite being surrounded by the trappings of a shared life.

Later, he found himself wandering through the house, unable to settle anywhere. He stopped outside the bedroom door, listening to the soft, rhythmic breathing within. He didn't go in. Instead, he turned and went to the guest room.