Gemotions

The steam from the shower fogged the mirror. Amelia scrubbed at it with her hand, desperate to see her reflection. The faint scent of her partner, David’s, sandalwood cologne lingered in the air, a phantom presence. She hadn’t heard him come back yet. He’d told her he was working late, but that hadn’t explained the hushed tones she’d overheard earlier, the way he’d practically leaped to answer the phone in the garage. Her stomach lurched.

She needed to get a grip. This was probably nothing. Still, her hand wouldn't stop shaking as she reached for the towel. She'd put on some music; maybe that would help.

The silence that greeted her when she entered the kitchen was deafening. The kettle sat cold and unused on the stove. Had he been home? The phone, tucked neatly in the charger, suddenly seemed significant. She touched it, then recoiled, as if burned.