Gemotions

He’d always been a creature of habit. Every evening, once the dishes were done and the news was over, he’d settle into his favorite armchair with a book. Tonight, however, the ritual was disrupted. She watched from the doorway, a soft smile playing on her lips, as he paced back and forth, a furrow in his brow.

He kept glancing at his phone, a device he usually ignored. He spoke in whispers, the words indecipherable but the tone carrying a strange undercurrent that prickled her senses. A knot of unease began to twist in her stomach.

When he finally hung up, he looked flustered. He avoided her gaze as he offered a flimsy excuse about a work emergency. She felt a vague sense of sadness, an unfamiliar ache spreading through her chest. She simply reached out to take his hand.