Gemotions

He stared at the stake hammered into the ground, marking the boundary. His stomach twisted. His hands, usually steady, now shook as he poured a cup of coffee. The dark liquid sloshed over the rim, staining the counter.

"Just a fence," he muttered, trying to convince himself, the words catching in his throat. This wasn't just a fence. This was the end of the view, the light, the…the feeling.

He ran a hand through his hair, tugging at the strands. The back door slammed open. His wife, Sarah, walked in, humming a cheerful tune. "What's wrong, honey?" she asked, her smile faltering at the sight of his face. He needed to hide it, but couldn't.

"Nothing," he managed, his voice a low rasp. “Just…coffee.” He forced a smile. The truth was lodged in his throat, a massive and unmovable boulder.