Gemotions

He’d left her apartment just an hour ago, whistling and smiling, promising to call later. Now, Sarah sat on her sofa, the cushions still bearing the faint imprint of his body. She ran a hand over the fabric, feeling the ghost of his presence. A crumpled piece of paper lay on the coffee table – a receipt from a florist, the same one he’d used to send her flowers. Her stomach churned.

She hadn't answered when the other woman, named Jessica, had called her. But the voicemails, filled with questions and a trembling tone, had done the damage. The truth, unveiled in a string of panicked messages, was a bitter pill to swallow. She had put her trust in someone and the foundation had crumbled.