Gemotions

The room seemed to shrink. Amelia gripped the armrests of the sofa, her nails digging into the fabric. She couldn't believe what was happening. "It was *your* idea to try that new restaurant," she said through gritted teeth. “You were the one who insisted on it! And now you’re saying I’m the reason we were sick for a week?” Her cheeks burned with a fiery intensity, and a familiar pressure built behind her eyes. The gall of it – to blame her, when the truth was as plain as day – felt like a physical assault. She wanted to scream, to lash out, to make him see the truth.