Gemotions

“Where were you?” she heard herself ask, the words a harsh rasp in the tense stillness of their bedroom. The scent of his aftershave, usually a source of comfort, now felt like a betrayal. His eyes, usually warm and inviting, now seemed to hold a secret, a challenge. A tremor ran through her, leaving her trembling. The sheets on the bed suddenly felt too rough, too constricting. She felt like a tightly coiled spring, ready to snap, to explode, to do something – anything – to break the suffocating silence, to understand what he had been saying.