Gemotions

Rain lashed against the windows, mirroring the tempest within him. He sat in his chair, staring at the closed study door. Maria had been working on a book. He hadn’t thought much of it, until recently.

The casual questions about his past, about his family, about his deepest fears, now seemed deliberate, calculating. The way she watched him, that detached, analytical gaze. It twisted the knife.

He imagined the words on the page, twisting the truth, exposing the vulnerability he had shared with her. He felt a rising tide of desperation. He needed to know. He had to see it. He had to read it.