Gemotions

The manuscript lay open on the coffee table, a cruel mockery of their shared living space. Sunlight, usually a welcome guest, now felt like a spotlight, highlighting every detail of the page. Clara stared at the words, at the thinly veiled descriptions of her own anxieties, her own insecurities, all rendered in the flat, clinical prose of her partner, David. Her breath hitched, her throat suddenly constricting. She found herself reaching for a glass of water, her hand trembling so badly she nearly dropped it. "David," she began, the word a small, lost thing in the vast silence of the apartment.