Gemotions

The carefully arranged floral centerpiece on the dining table seemed to taunt her. Emily’s smile wavered. The news, delivered with a casual "Oh, by the way..." from her husband, had just landed in her lap. Apparently, the secret rendezvous, the carefully orchestrated surprise – all gone.

She pushed back from the table, the chair scraping loudly against the polished floor. The pleasant aroma of the chicken roasting in the oven, meant to celebrate the occasion, now felt cloying, nauseating.

“He *what*?” she asked, her voice dangerously calm, the control a fragile shield against the raging fire within. Her husband blinked, oblivious to the storm brewing in her eyes. She wanted to scream.