Gemotions

The flickering streetlight cast long shadows across the living room as Eleanor paced. Her fingers traced the worn grooves of the coffee table, a mindless act meant to occupy her hands. The receiver still felt warm against her palm, a phantom sensation of the moment she’d snatched it up. He'd been in the shower, the water a white noise barrier against his secrets. Now she felt the grit in her stomach.

She hadn't meant to eavesdrop. Just a quick glance at the caller ID… that’s all. The name, "David," had blossomed on the screen, a betrayal etched in neon. She'd known no David. The silent, unanswered calls of the last few weeks flashed before her eyes.

Later, she found herself in the kitchen, staring at the kettle. When the water was boiling, she poured it into a mug, then poured it down the sink. He would be home soon. She needed to prepare. Not to confront, just to… be.