Gemotions

He’d stopped calling her "honey" weeks ago. The affectionate nicknames had ceased. Now, he was a stranger in his own home. Ben sat at the kitchen table, the half-eaten dinner growing cold. He could feel a hollowness forming in his chest, a vacuum sucking the energy from his limbs.

He followed his wife to the bedroom door. He hesitated, seeing her engrossed in a phone conversation, the words flowing low and private. Her face, usually open and smiling, was shadowed, almost secretive. He wanted to hear the rest of the conversation.

He turned away. His throat was tight. He felt alone.