Gemotions

The call had disconnected just as Leo walked into the room. He saw the phone, still glowing, on the bedside table. His wife, Maya, was standing at the window, back to him, as if she were inspecting the distant rooftops. He knew the caller ID was blocked.

He approached her slowly, feeling a coldness seep into his bones. The silence in the room was deafening. He cleared his throat.

She didn't turn.

"Who was that, Maya?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper. He wanted to break something, to shatter the delicate peace of the room and expose the rot underneath. The silence stretched, and with each passing second, the feeling of being violated grew.

She turned slowly, her face like a blank canvas. “Just a friend,” she said, her voice soft, but her eyes held a storm.