Gemotions

A bead of sweat trickled down Amelia's temple. She fiddled with the loose thread on her sweater, trying to distract herself. The scent of her partner’s cologne, still lingering in the air after he'd left for work, suddenly felt cloying. He’d forgotten his phone. She’d promised to bring it. Now, seeing the missed calls, she felt her stomach clench. Several calls, all from the same unknown number. She pressed the call log, her finger hovering over the first entry.

Her hands shook as she scrolled through the list. Each call, a fresh wave of nausea. A sense of wrongness invaded her, a feeling like she’d stumbled into someone else's carefully constructed world and broken something delicate. She shut the phone, the silence of the apartment suddenly amplified, deafening.