Gemotions

The small, leather-bound notebook was hidden beneath the pillow. He found it by accident, while searching for his reading glasses.

Inside, his handwriting stared back at him. Not the words themselves, but how they were arranged. He couldn’t be sure. But there was a possibility, and the thought was a knife.

He had tried to broach the subject. "What were you doing on the computer last night?" She had brushed him off, claiming she was just "browsing."

He saw her face then. The way her eyes darted away, the way her hand flew up to smooth her hair. He knew.

He left the notebook where he found it. He wanted her to know he knew. He was waiting.

He found himself constantly checking the windows, the doors. He was expecting something to happen. He didn't know what.