Gemotions

The digital clock blinked 10:37 PM. He should have been asleep. But he sat upright in bed, listening to the soft murmur coming from the living room. Sarah, his wife, had been spending hours lately, tucked away in the living room with the door closed. He'd caught a flash of script, Japanese, on her laptop screen the other day. He was tired, but sleep felt impossible. He felt a strange burning sensation in his stomach.

He threw the covers back. The house was quiet, and he could still hear the murmur, now clearer. He walked slowly to the door, his hand clenched into a fist.

“Everything alright?” he asked from the doorway, his voice flat. He felt a ridiculous urge to go back to bed.

Sarah jumped, startled. She quickly closed her laptop, her expression carefully blank. “Just working on a project,” she said.

He stood there, still in the doorway, the silence stretched taut between them. He turned and quietly returned to bed.