Gemotions

The phone rang, and the familiar shadow of doubt descended upon Emily. She could feel a coldness settling in her stomach, like a stone. She watched, her hands clenching at her sides, as David scrambled to answer it in the hallway.

She picked at the corner of the tablecloth, her fingers tracing the floral pattern with frantic energy. Each unanswered question clawed at her insides.

When he returned, his smile felt brittle, fragile. She pushed away from the table, a sudden surge of heat coursing through her body.

"Who was that?" she asked, her voice dangerously calm. She wanted to shatter the serene image of the breakfast room, to tear down the walls that seemed to be closing in around her. The sunlight, once welcome, now seemed to mock her.