Gemotions

The voicemail. Sarah found it when she was checking her messages. A man’s voice, low, husky, saying he missed her. He had called repeatedly and deleted the messages. She stared at the phone, her hands trembling so badly she could barely hold it.

She marched into the living room, where he was pretending to read the newspaper. He looked up, a placid smile on his face, and gestured her to the sofa. She wanted to slap the newspaper out of his hands, to scream and tear him apart.

Instead, she stood there, her legs feeling like lead. A knot formed in her stomach, a physical representation of the betrayal that had just slammed into her.

"Who is he?" she asked, her voice quiet, controlled, but each word was a carefully aimed weapon.