Gemotions

The flickering candlelight cast dancing shadows across the bedroom wall, mirroring the unease churning in Clara's stomach. Another call, late at night, whispering voices she couldn't quite decipher. She’d stopped asking.

The floral wallpaper seemed to wilt under the weight of the silence that followed each hushed conversation. She found herself staring at the patterns, tracing their faded blooms with a fingertip.

“Coffee?” she asked, her voice flat, when he finally emerged from the hallway. He simply nodded, his eyes avoiding hers. She went into the kitchen, the familiar clatter of the mugs a dull counterpoint to the hollow ache in her chest.