Gemotions

He stared at the untouched plate of pasta, the sauce beginning to congeal. The restaurant, usually a haven of laughter with Sarah, now felt like a gilded cage. He’d envisioned a future with her, a life built on a foundation of trust. His stomach twisted at the thought of the lie that had been masquerading as her career. An "architect" designing skyscrapers, when she was, in reality, a draftsman.

He felt a pang in his chest every time he recalled the times she'd been evasive about her work. He should have pried. He should have listened closer. The weight of his own silence pressed down on him. Now, she was at home, oblivious, probably practicing her lies for tomorrow. The thought alone was enough to make him want to disappear.

He pushed the plate away, the clatter echoing in the suddenly silent space.