Gemotions

The clock ticked loudly in the quiet study, each second amplifying her growing distress. He'd spent months writing this, carefully crafting this fictional world, based on her. It was a mockery of their shared life.

She balled her fists and slammed them down on the desk, scattering papers. She wanted to obliterate everything, to erase the very existence of the book. The pain was physical, a burning sensation in her chest.

She stood up and paced the room. "How could he?" she muttered under her breath. The words felt like knives twisting in her gut. She wouldn't let him get away with this.