Gemotions

The book lay open on the bedside table, a half-read romance novel. Leo had always been a romantic, a writer. But this wasn’t a romance. It was… a thinly veiled memoir, a re-telling of their last disastrous vacation. He was the hero, of course, and she, the… antagonist?

His words, their shared experiences, twisted to fit his narrative. She felt a surge of heat, a flush rising in her cheeks. The room felt suddenly small, the air thick and heavy. She picked up the book, her fingers tracing the cover, fighting back a wave of nausea.

A deep breath hitched in her throat. She needed space, air. She threw the book across the room, it hitting the wall and falling to the floor with a thud.