Gemotions

The hum of the refrigerator seemed deafening. Sarah sat at the kitchen table, pushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear. Her hand trembled as she held the manuscript, a novel written by her wife. The character based on her, was cold, calculating, and ultimately unlikeable. A wave of heat washed over her face. She felt like she had been punched.

She leaned forward, resting her forehead on the cool surface of the table. The words blurred before her eyes, but the sting of betrayal was crystal clear. She felt a deep ache inside her, a persistent throb that seemed to intensify with each passing moment. A shudder ran through her, leaving her feeling utterly drained.