Gemotions

The clatter of the keys on the counter, the deliberately loud sigh. He'd come home late, again. Sunlight was already streaming through the blinds, painting stripes across the hardwood floor. He usually called, at least with a flimsy excuse. This time, nothing.

She started the coffee, measuring out the grounds with a heavy hand. Enough for two? She'd see. She wouldn't ask about the late hours, not yet. Not until the silence felt like it was about to crack the walls.

He was in the shower, the water a steady rush. Perfect. She opened his work laptop, logged in, and began browsing his emails. She knew the password. He’d always been so predictable.