Gemotions

A bead of sweat trickled down Liam's forehead as he stared at the screen. The text, meant for his wife, read: "Dinner at the Italian place tonight? Don't tell your mother." He had, inadvertently, sent it to his *mother-in-law*. He felt his stomach clench.

He slammed his fist on the kitchen table, rattling the coffee cups. He took a few deep breaths, trying to control the surge of heat that had flooded his chest. The audacity! The pure gall! This was a disaster. He paced the length of the small kitchen, his normally steady gait now jerky and uneven.