Gemotions

He paced the living room, the Persian rug feeling rough beneath his feet. The veins in his forehead throbbed. He’d meant to text his friend, complaining about the terrible service at the new Italian restaurant. Instead, a series of increasingly accusatory statements, meant for his demanding ex-wife, had just landed in the inbox of his current, incredibly understanding, girlfriend.

He felt a cold dread creep into his bones.

He grabbed his phone, his fingers fumbling. A new text. He braced himself.

"Honey, what does this even mean? Are you unhappy?"