Gemotions

"You alright, honey?" Mark's voice, usually a comforting balm, now grated on Evelyn's nerves. The gentle inquiry felt like a barbed wire across her spirit. She picked at the label of her beer bottle, her fingers tracing the condensation. Her pulse felt erratic, a frantic drumming against her ribs.

She’d found the manuscript hidden amongst the cushions on the sofa. "The Unspoken Song" it was called, and it read like a private autopsy. The main character, "Eliza," was portrayed as a perpetual victim, always bracing for disappointment, never daring to hope.

Evelyn wanted to scream, to lash out. But the words were stuck in her throat, a choked sound she couldn't release.

"Fine," she managed, her voice flat. "Just tired."