Gemotions

He found the phone hidden under the mattress. It was an old model, the kind you would only use for texting. He scrolled through the messages, his breath catching in his throat with each new phrase.

Each message was in his dialect, a dialect she’d always laughed at. Her texts were to someone. Someone she had been speaking in this dialect to.

He closed the phone, his hands shaking. The small screen seemed to radiate heat. He felt the blood drain from his face.

He walked over to the open window, the night air offering little comfort.