Gemotions

He grabbed the car keys, the metal cold and unfamiliar in his sweaty palm. A wave of nausea rolled through him. The coded messages, the furtive glances, and the incessant phone calls. John needed air. He needed distance. The scent of her perfume, usually a source of comfort, now filled his nostrils, making him want to cough. He stumbled out of the house and into the night. His gut was twisted into a tight knot. The car door slammed shut behind him, the sound echoing in the stillness.