Gemotions

The concert hall was hushed, the air thick with anticipation. Isabella leaned back in her seat, enjoying the quiet. She had arrived early, a small luxury she granted herself whenever possible. The quiet before the storm. The prelude to the performance.

Then, at the appointed time, he arrived with a woman. Isabella knew the game. She waited, watching the expressions on their faces. She did nothing to interrupt. The moment arrived, and the introductions commenced.

"Isabella," he began, his voice laced with the customary apology. "This is..."

"Don't bother," she said, cutting him off, her voice low. "We can get this sorted when the music stops."