Gemotions

He’d left the manuscript open on the coffee table. *The Bitter Bloom* – the title alone sent a wave of heat surging through Clara’s veins. It was her life, her history, her deepest insecurities, laid bare for… well, who? The literary world? His friends? Every single detail was a distorted reflection of their shared reality. It was a violation.

Clara’s jaw tightened. She picked up a coaster and threw it across the room; it shattered against the wall. A searing pain erupted in her chest. She sank into the sofa, burying her face in her hands. This was a nightmare.

She heard the key turn in the lock. Suddenly, she was overcome with the urge to flee.