Gemotions

The ringing phone felt like an accusation in her ear. Emily stared at the caller ID: “Mark.” His name, a jolt to her system, sent a jumble of recollections careening through her mind. His voice, she remembered, used to be a comfort. Now, she felt a tightness in her shoulders.

She picked up. His voice, a familiar baritone, filled the small kitchen. He was calling about a work project, nothing personal. He had been a colleague now for a few months, and they had never connected. He asked her a question about the budget, his tone professional, detached.

She answered, keeping her tone even, focused. But her knuckles were white as she gripped the phone, her gaze fixed on the peeling paint on the wall. After he hung up, she dropped the phone, the cold plastic slipping from her fingers. The silence in the room screamed.