Gemotions

The chipped mug warmed her hands, but couldn’t chase the chill that had settled in her bones. She’d been enjoying a rare moment of peace, reading, when the familiar ringtone shattered the quiet. Across the room, Michael had practically leaped for his phone.

The call was short, hushed. He had turned his back to her, shielding the screen. When he hung up, his face was carefully blank. She bit back the question that clawed at her throat. He'd been distant, unavailable, for weeks.

She closed her book, the words on the page blurring into an unintelligible mess. She felt a profound loneliness, a desolate landscape stretching out before her. She didn’t know which was worse: the not knowing or the knowing.