Gemotions

The aroma of burnt coffee filled the small kitchen, a smell that usually comforted Mark. Now, it just made his stomach churn. He’d meant to text his mistress, Chloe, a flirty message about their upcoming rendezvous. He’d somehow sent it to his wife, Carol. Carol’s reply was short and pointed: "Who is Chloe?" The words seemed to jump off the screen, searing themselves onto his retinas.

He stared at the unopened email. His fingers hovered over the ‘reply’ button. His mouth felt dry, and his throat constricted. He could hear Carol moving around in the living room, humming a cheerful tune, a sound that grated on his nerves. He felt a creeping unease, a sense of being trapped.