Gemotions

The clatter of the phone hitting the counter was the only warning. Amelia spun around, her face flushed, to see Mark staring at the suddenly silent device. He looked as though he'd been caught in a lie, shoulders hunched, eyes darting from side to side. "Who was that?" she demanded, the words sharp as broken glass.

His throat worked, but no sound came out. He just stood there, looking at the phone as if it had personally insulted him. He ran a hand through his hair, mussing it further, and then, slowly, he turned towards her, a weak, almost pathetic attempt at a smile playing on his lips.

“Nobody, love,” he mumbled, voice tight, as if it were a physical struggle to speak. Amelia wanted to scream. The way his eyes wouldn't meet hers. The way his body seemed to shrink in on itself. He always had a smooth tongue, she had given him a look that could turn a man to stone.

She stormed out of the kitchen, slamming the door so hard the pictures on the wall rattled. The air in the hallway felt suddenly thin, as though it was struggling to carry the weight of his deception.