Gemotions

The small, leather-bound book felt heavy in her hands. The weight of the words, the weight of the implications, pressed down on her chest. She couldn't look at it directly; her gaze kept darting away, finding refuge in the patterns of the wallpaper. Her hands trembled, making the book shake.

He’d fictionalized their life, of course, but the details… the subtle digs, the unspoken resentments… a sense of despair threatened to swallow her whole. She felt a churning in her stomach, an acidic burn that wouldn't go away. She wanted to throw the book across the room, to shatter the illusions.