Gemotions

The manuscript lay open on the coffee table, a testament to her deception. It described him, Ethan, with an accuracy that was both flattering and devastating. Every insecurity he’d confided, every mistake he'd made, now painted on the page for an audience of one: her. The thought of it made his stomach churn.

He’d exploded, of course. Accusations, recriminations, the usual volley of hurt feelings. Now, though, the fight was gone, replaced by a dull ache in his chest. He saw her now, perched on the stool in the corner of the room, her shoulders slumped, her eyes red-rimmed.

He remembered the late nights she'd spent at her desk, the whispered conversations on the phone, the creative intensity he had admired. He'd been too caught up in his own anger to see the damage he was doing.

He sighed, his voice barely a whisper. "I… I shouldn't have..."