Gemotions

The book lay open on the kitchen counter, its pages revealing a fictionalized version of her life, a life she thought was private. Sarah felt a peculiar fluttering in her chest, a nervous energy that vibrated in her fingertips. Her pulse quickened. The descriptions of her mannerisms, her vulnerabilities, were almost too accurate. This wasn't flattering; it felt… invasive.

She paced the kitchen, the hardwood floor creaking beneath her feet. The scent of coffee, usually comforting, now felt acrid. She glanced at the clock, expecting Mark, her partner, to walk through the door any minute. The thought of facing him, of having him look at her with the knowledge he’d gleaned from her hidden life, was unbearable.

She grabbed her keys and rushed outside, seeking a place where she could breathe.