Gemotions

The salt air filled Clara's nostrils as she walked along the pier, the rhythmic creak of the wooden planks beneath her feet a steady counterpoint to the turmoil inside her. Mark had been acting strangely for weeks. He was always on his phone, always disappearing to take calls in the garden, out of her earshot.

A cold wind whipped at her hair, mirroring the chill that had settled over their relationship. She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to ward off the shivers. The calls were short, clipped, but always accompanied by a strange, almost nervous energy.

She paused, staring out at the churning sea. What was he hiding? The waves crashed against the rocks below, a constant, relentless sound, much like the questions swirling in her mind. She pulled her phone out, a strange impulse taking hold, but hesitated.