Gemotions

The takeout containers felt heavy in Maya's hands, the plastic digging into her palms. The aroma of sesame chicken, usually a comfort, now felt cloying. She’d been staring at the closed bathroom door for twenty minutes, listening to the muffled, hushed tones. Another call. Another disappearing act. Her breath hitched. She dumped the food on the kitchen counter, the clatter echoing in the sudden silence. "Liam?" she called, her voice tight, a tremor running through it.

She paced the small apartment, the worn rug offering no solace to her restless feet. Her phone, usually glued to her hand, remained on the coffee table. She couldn't bring herself to pick it up, afraid of what she might see. The knot in her stomach tightened with each passing second, a physical manifestation of her unease. The shadows in the room seemed to press in on her.

Liam emerged from the bathroom, his face carefully blank. "Hey," he said, his voice a little too casual. Maya forced a smile. "Food's ready." The words felt foreign in her mouth. She could only manage a small nod.