Gemotions

The laptop screen glared back at Amelia, reflecting her distorted features. She slammed it shut, the sound echoing in the otherwise quiet apartment. It was *her*. Every detail, every quirk, every insecurity meticulously laid bare on the digital page. This wasn't a love story; it was a dissection.

Her hands clenched into fists. She felt a heat rising in her chest, a pressure building behind her eyes. He’d been so charming, so attentive, always asking about her day. All the while, he’d been cataloging her life, transforming it into fodder for his pathetic little book.

She found the bottle of whiskey in the cupboard and poured a generous amount into a glass. The amber liquid didn’t soothe her. It just fueled the churning in her stomach. "How could he?" she muttered, the question aimed at the empty air.