Gemotions

He stared at the blank screen, the cursor blinking like a mocking eye. The novel, his novel, sat completed on the desk. He hadn't meant for her to find it. He wanted to tell her, but he felt a knot tightening in his throat.

He had started leaving the house before she woke, returning after she was asleep, so he wouldn't have to face her. The familiar rituals of their life together, making coffee, watching the evening news, now felt like impossible exercises. The scent of her perfume, which he had always loved, felt like a constant ache in his head.

He sat for hours, trying to eat, trying to think, but his thoughts had become a frantic jumble. The apartment, once a sanctuary, was now a cage of his own making.