Gemotions

The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the living room. Leo picked at the frayed edge of the sofa cushion, a nervous habit he'd adopted years ago, after his first divorce. He found the manuscript, a novel about him, hidden under his own pillow. The first few pages he read yesterday had felt like a betrayal. He needed to know more, needed to fully understand her motives.

He ran a hand through his hair, leaving it a mess. The front door slammed shut. Her return home should have felt like a relief, but it made his heart race. He heard her footsteps in the hallway. He felt the blood begin to rush in his ears.

He stood and walked towards the door, unsure of what he would say. He had no plan, no words, just an overwhelming urge to know. He opened the door.