Gemotions

He had the audacity to call her from the airport, mid-sentence about gate changes and delayed flights. Sarah, usually so composed, felt her jaw tighten. Each word, each casual mention of "the move," "the new place," was like a small, deliberate stab. Her knuckles were white from gripping the phone so hard.

"Well, it's just... exciting," he'd said. Exciting? Her throat constricted. He sounded almost… happy. That infuriated her more.

She gripped the counter, the cool granite a small anchor against the rising tide of heat that flooded her chest. He was leaving, ditching her for a new adventure. The betrayal, sharp and unexpected, caused a tremor in her hand. She stared at the overflowing trash can, considering if she'd throw the phone in it, just to spite him.