Gemotions

The flickering candlelight danced across the kitchen, casting long, distorted shadows. He sat hunched at the table, the remnants of a hastily prepared dinner growing cold in front of him. A single, unanswered phone call from earlier hung in the air, a phantom limb he couldn't quite shake. The silence of the apartment pressed in, heavier than usual, each tick of the grandfather clock a relentless reminder. He picked at a stray piece of pasta, then pushed the plate away, a knot forming in his stomach. He’d been so absorbed in his own work, his own anxieties, he’d failed to notice the subtle shifts in her behavior. The averted gazes, the sudden trips to the other room, the way her hand flew to her phone as soon as he entered.