Gemotions

He’d started working late, claiming urgent projects. But the phone calls always began at a specific time, like clockwork. She’d tried to be understanding, but the consistency of it, the secrecy, had started to gnaw at her.

One evening, she “forgot” her keys, claiming she’d have to wait. He answered the phone and went into the spare bedroom, closing the door behind him. She decided to go get a cup of tea.

Her hand trembled as she reached for the door handle. It felt like she was committing a crime. She felt a curious pull, a mix of anxiety and excitement. As she listened through the crack in the door, she was utterly transfixed.