Gemotions

The apartment felt too small, too full. The walls seemed to close in. Emily sat on the edge of the bed, watching as Sam meticulously arranged a new fish tank. The gurgling of the filter was a constant background noise.

She'd pleaded. She'd raised valid points. She’d explained her own commitments, her distaste for the things, and the limitations of space. It was too late. Sam's mind was made up.

She ran a hand through her hair, her fingers tangling in the strands. The glow of the tank, a soft, ethereal light, illuminated her face. She felt a profound sense of… acceptance? No, not quite. Just a sense of the inevitable, he thought. She stood up. She had emails to check.