Gemotions

He stared out the rain-streaked window, watching the city lights blur into streaks of yellow and orange. This was the view from their apartment, and one he had loved. Lately, though, it seemed to mock him. He’d found the phone nestled under her pillow. The unfamiliar number, the coded entries in her call log… it had shattered the comfortable predictability of his life.

A headache began to throb behind his eyes. He squeezed them shut, trying to block out the image of her face, the way she would look when he confronted her. Would she deny it? Would she be apologetic? Or would she meet his gaze with a cold, indifferent stare?

He ran a hand through his hair, a gesture that felt as empty as his heart. The silence in the apartment pressed down on him, heavy and suffocating. He needed air. He considered calling his brother, but the thought of the conversation, the pitying looks, made him recoil. He would be forced to face this alone.

He moved to the small table and took a seat. Empty. The world felt empty.