Gemotions

The hum of the refrigerator was the only sound in the kitchen, a stark contrast to the cacophony of thoughts swirling inside Rebecca’s head. She’d found the manuscript in a locked drawer, alongside a collection of hidden mementos. It depicted her as a shallow, materialistic woman, obsessed with appearances. Her chest felt constricted, making it difficult to breathe.

She confronted John in the living room, where he was engrossed in a game. “I want an explanation,” she said, her voice icy.

John paused the game, his brow furrowing in confusion. “What are you talking about?” he asked. Rebecca held up the manuscript, her hand shaking. “This. This distorted version of me. Is this your perception? Is this all you see?”