Gemotions

The hum of the refrigerator was the loudest sound in the apartment, a constant, irritating reminder of the empty space beside him in the bed. He'd been tossing and turning for hours. The bed was too wide. The sheets felt cold against his skin. The secrets, the whispered conversations, the clandestine meetings, they all built up a huge pressure that he could barely keep up with.

He got out of bed, the floorboards creaking under his weight. He walked into the living room. The TV, the books on the shelves, all served as a painful reminder of their shared life, now tainted by distrust. He felt like his heart was constricting.

A text message. He saw it on the screen. He read it, then reread it. He collapsed onto the sofa, completely drained.