Gemotions

The air thickened in the small study. Ava had found the manuscript in a locked drawer. "The Prism of Ethan" was the title, a phrase that felt like a punch to the gut. The story was familiar, too familiar, chronicling the slow crumbling of their relationship.

She felt a wave of nausea wash over her. Her hands trembled as she read about their arguments, their silences, the widening chasm between them. The fictional Ethan was distant, cold, and cruel.

A bitter taste filled her mouth. She had to know how it ended, even as each word chipped away at her. A cold sweat slicked her skin. The urge to smash something, anything, consumed her.