Gemotions

The hum of the refrigerator was a mocking soundtrack to her discomfort. Clara sat at the dining table, the unfinished crossword puzzle a testament to her inability to concentrate. Ethan had been taking calls, late into the night, for weeks. She'd dismissed it as work, an excuse she no longer believed.

The phone again. She saw it, peeking out from under the newspaper. It vibrated on the table, and he was not home. The caller ID was hidden.

Her fingers trembled as she reached for the phone. She stopped, retreating back into herself. Her chest felt constricted. The air grew thick, making it hard to take a breath. She closed her eyes.

She did not touch it.