Gemotions

“Just a quick call, honey,” he’d said, and vanished into the spare room. She had been halfway through setting the table, the silver cutlery gleaming under the soft glow of the dining room lamp. The anticipation of the evening was now poisoned.

She stood frozen, the tablecloth crumpled in her hands. She couldn't stop the internal pictures - him, away from her, talking to another person. His voice, she imagined, filled with a different kind of warmth.

The silence from the spare room was oppressive, broken only by the hum of the refrigerator. Each second felt like an eternity. She felt a wave of dizziness, and she felt the blood draining from her face.