Gemotions

Rain lashed against the windows, mirroring the tempest in Amelia’s chest. The secret calls, always whispering, were getting to her. She had caught Mark, her partner of seven years, at it three times now. Each time, he clammed up, a strange, closed look hardening his features. He'd offer flimsy excuses, his eyes avoiding hers. She knew something was off.

She watched him from the kitchen, where she was making dinner. He was at the window now, pretending to look at the downpour, phone pressed to his ear. He saw her and quickly ended the call.

Later, as they ate, the silence stretched, thick and uncomfortable. He mentioned the weather again, but she just continued eating, even though the food tasted like ash. She didn’t rise to his conversational overtures. She just kept chewing.