Gemotions

The restaurant was too loud, too bright. Every laugh, every clinking glass, grated on her nerves. Across the table, James was animated, talking about his day at work, but she couldn't focus. Her fingers fidgeted with the silverware, twisting it into impossible shapes.

She’d heard the hushed phone conversations, the way he’d rush outside to take them. His explanations felt flimsy, like a house of cards ready to collapse. She tried to smile, to appear engaged, but the effort was exhausting. She needed to know, but the questions felt like stones in her throat.