Gemotions

He’d claimed the manuscript was a "creative exploration," a way to delve into the complexities of relationships. Mark, though, saw it as a betrayal. He slammed his fist on the steering wheel, the horn blaring in the quiet suburban street. The air conditioner blasted cold air but didn't cool his anger. He felt like the air had been squeezed from his lungs.

The novel detailed their first date, every awkward silence, every clumsy attempt at flirting. The character based on him came across as weak, indecisive, entirely unlike the man Mark thought he was. He felt a deep, twisting irritation bloom in his chest, a knot that tightened with each passing page. He read the whole thing.

He could practically taste the bitterness rising in his throat. He’d poured his heart into this relationship, and this was his reward: a public dissection, a carefully constructed portrait of his perceived flaws. He’d show him. He’d show everyone.