Gemotions

Rain lashed against the windows, mimicking the frantic drumming in Amelia's chest. She’d been downstairs, folding laundry, when the distinct hush of a whispered phone call drifted from the bedroom. Now, she stood outside the closed door, hand hovering over the handle, hesitant. He’d told her he was working late. The lie felt like a shard of ice lodged in her throat.

She pushed the door open. Liam stood by the window, phone pressed to his ear, his back to her. A quick glance over his shoulder, a startled flinch, and then he was turning away, muttering into the phone about "nothing important." Amelia didn't move, her gaze glued to the expensive watch on his wrist.

"Who was that?" The words felt stiff, unfamiliar coming from her. He was avoiding eye contact.