Gemotions

The sun was setting, casting long shadows across the living room. James held the manuscript, the pages filled with tales of his life, filtered through the eyes of his partner, Oliver. The version of himself presented was unflattering, to say the least.

He felt the hot flush of humiliation creep up his neck. He wanted to scream, to lash out, but the words wouldn't come.

Oliver entered the room, his face etched with worry. He saw James, saw the book. His shoulders slumped, and he stood frozen in place, a picture of defeat. He started to stammer, to formulate an explanation. James turned away, unable to bear it. He walked to the window, the image of Oliver’s face burned into his memory.