Gemotions

The chipped mug warmed Amelia's hands, yet she shivered. The apartment felt vast and echoing since Liam had announced his plans. A tiny, yipping dog. She'd pictured them, the two of them, in this space, a haven. Not a whirlwind of puppy energy.

She chewed her lip, the taste of stale coffee doing little to calm her. The silence, normally comforting, now pressed down on her chest. She pictured the dog hairs, the constant noise, the responsibility. She hated the feeling of her stomach twisting.

"It's just… a lot," she mumbled, staring at the dust motes dancing in the afternoon light. Liam would dismiss her concerns, tell her she was being dramatic. Maybe she was. But the thought of it all made her feel adrift.