Gemotions

"Is this… is this real?" Sarah choked out, her voice barely a whisper. David looked up from his meticulously organized desk, a confused frown creasing his forehead. Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic, trapped bird.

The notebook lay open on the kitchen counter, its pages filled with his elegant handwriting. Sketches of her face, notes about her favourite café, details about the way she always tapped her foot when waiting for the bus. He had been *studying* her.

Her hands were shaking so badly, she could hardly grasp the edge of the countertop. She felt a burning in her chest, a sudden need to run, to escape the confines of their apartment. She struggled to breathe. "You wrote a book about me?" she managed, the words catching in her throat.