Gemotions

The author had somehow gotten access to his journals. He recognized the verbatim quotes, the descriptions of his most private thoughts. He felt a pressure in his skull, a headache blooming behind his eyes. He clenched his fists, knuckles white.

“How…how?” he whispered, his voice barely audible. He reread a sentence, a passage about a past relationship, a relationship he'd guarded so fiercely. His breath hitched. He closed his eyes, his chest rising and falling quickly. He felt as though someone had taken a crowbar and pried open his chest cavity. He wanted to scream.