Gemotions

Rain lashed against the windows, mirroring the tempest inside Thomas. He’d found the manuscript tucked beneath Clara's pillow, the title scrawled in her familiar, looping handwriting: "The Disappearance of Thomas." His hands were clammy as he flipped the pages.

He read a passage about a character mirroring his own gambling habit, and the financial stress it caused the couple. His vision blurred. He felt a wave of nausea, the room spinning slightly.

He imagined Clara’s expression if she found him reading it. His own face must have been a mask of guilt. He hastily shoved the manuscript back under the pillow, his fingers brushing against something soft. He wanted to scream.

He poured himself a large whiskey, his hand shaking so violently some spilled. He didn't know what to do. His mouth was dry, his throat constricted.