Gemotions

The smell of his cologne, usually a source of comfort, now turned her stomach. She sat on the edge of the bed, the crumpled pages of the manuscript hidden beneath the duvet. He'd captured her vulnerabilities, her insecurities, with chilling accuracy. It was a betrayal she couldn’t articulate, a violation that left her feeling stripped bare.

She'd tried to act normal, but her voice cracked when she spoke, and she jumped at every sudden sound. He was sitting at his desk. His back was towards her, and she could see him typing. Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic bird trapped in a cage.

She went into the bathroom and stared at herself in the mirror. She ran the cold water on her wrists, trying to calm the burning sensation that spread through her veins. When he asked if she wanted to go for dinner, she nodded and felt a chill creep over her.