Gemotions

The chess board was set. He'd taught Maya the game years ago, a way to pass the time on weekends, a shared pursuit. Now, her games were different. The moves, a series of calculated steps, always seemed to anticipate his. She studied him with an unnerving intensity, her gaze fixed, unwavering. He was starting to feel the walls closing in.

He glanced over his shoulder. The living room was empty. He felt his pulse quicken. He'd moved the rook a bit, he realized. Maybe it was a mistake? He felt the knot in his stomach tighten. It was a bad move. He knew she would capitalize on it.

He pushed the chess pieces aside and pretended to get up to go get a snack, but he slowly retreated to the hallway, listening. He heard her start to chuckle, then she cleared her throat, and said something he didn't catch. He had to be sure, absolutely sure, of the ground beneath his feet.