Gemotions

The rhythmic clinking of the ice in her scotch glass did nothing to soothe Amelia's frayed nerves. She'd been irritable all day, a coiled spring ready to snap. She felt a burning need for something to occupy her hands, to distract her from the internal turmoil that gnawed at her. Even the usually comforting scent of the lavender candles on the mantelpiece felt cloying.

She found herself in her boyfriend, Ben's, study. He was away on a business trip, and the house felt vast and echoey without him. She shouldn’t have come in here. She shouldn't have been in here. She glanced around the room, picking up a photograph of the two of them on a hike, and then she put it back down.

She sat at his desk, the silence amplifying the thrumming in her ears. A laptop sat open on the desk. She could just close it, pretend she never saw it. But the cursor was blinking at her, waiting. She saw the file name “The Woman in the Window.” She swallowed, a lump forming in her throat.