Gemotions

The text message flashed on Michael's phone: "I saw you at the bookstore today! It was cool to see you in person." He had to sit down, the world tilting. He’d spent months, maybe years, weaving an intricate tapestry of lies with "BookwormBabe." Now she knew.

He stared at the message, the words blurring before his eyes. His breath came in shallow, rapid gasps. The walls of his apartment seemed to close in, compressing him. He imagined her watching him, knowing his secrets.

His hands shook as he grabbed his phone, deleting the message and blocking the contact. But the feeling of being exposed, of being seen, lingered like a phantom touch. He had a sudden urge to get out, to run far, far away.