Gemotions

He had the audacity to call it "fiction". The book, detailing their life, made her want to weep. It was a perversion of their shared experiences, a betrayal of everything they had built together. Her skin felt too tight.

I wanted to scream. I wanted to tear up the pages and feed them to the fire. I felt trapped. He'd made a mockery of their relationship.

She pushed herself to her feet, her legs shaky. She had to get out, to breathe. The air in the apartment had become stagnant, filled with the stench of deceit.