Gemotions

The laptop hummed, its screen still glowing with the last few words of the chapter. Amelia stared at the sentence: "His betrayal stung, a phantom limb that throbbed with every memory." A wave of heat flushed her face. It was her, obviously. The "he" in the novel was a stand-in for her. She'd been so careless, so quick to judge when Mark's attention had strayed. Now, seeing her cruelty dissected, the ache in her chest was a heavy thing. She hadn't realized the damage she'd done.

She'd thought him a fool for being so easily hurt. Now, reading his words, she saw the vulnerability she'd scoffed at. She reached out, her fingers trembling as she closed the laptop. The silence in the apartment was deafening, the air thick with unspoken apologies. She should have been kinder.

She went to the kitchen and made him tea. Black, no sugar, the way he liked it. The kettle whistled shrilly, and she jumped, as though guilty of a crime.