Gemotions

Liam stared at the dog-eared pages of the novel, his fingers trembling. He hadn't known Maya, his wife, possessed this kind of imagination, or this specific kind of venom. In the book, he was a hapless fool, always being tricked. His stomach churned. He felt a leaden weight settle in his gut.

He threw the book against the wall, the flimsy paper fluttering for a moment before landing on the floor. He ran a hand through his hair, then paced the small living room. The afternoon sunlight streaming through the window seemed mocking. How could she depict him so poorly? He felt profoundly wounded.

The front door slammed. Maya was home. He froze, his breath catching in his throat.