Gemotions

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air, but Maya couldn't bring herself to touch her cup. She watched, motionless, as Liam, her husband, put the phone down for the third time that morning. The call had been a few minutes each time, but the secrecy was enough to enrage her. She knew something was happening.

She walked into the kitchen, grabbed a knife, and started chopping vegetables with aggressive, jerky movements. Her knuckles were white from gripping the handle. Carrots flew across the cutting board, landing with a thump.

Liam attempted a conversation, but she only gave short, clipped responses. She kept her gaze fixed on the vegetables, refusing to meet his eyes. Each slash of the knife was a silent refusal to engage.