Gemotions

The hum of the refrigerator felt like a physical pressure against Amelia's ears. She sat at the kitchen table, staring at the phone, the object of her growing suspicions. The air in the house felt thick, charged with unspoken tension. She tapped a fingernail against the table, the rhythm erratic, mimicking the erratic beat of her heart. She couldn't focus on her book.

She felt a nervous energy bubbling beneath the surface. He'd been quieter, more preoccupied. She knew that look, that tone. She reached for the phone. Should she? Shouldn't she? The thought bounced around her head.