Gemotions

The knot in his stomach tightened with each passing day. John knew something was off. Sarah, his wife, had become distant, secretive, always on her phone, always with a faraway look in her eyes. Today, he resolved, would be the day. He wouldn’t cower.

He followed her, a shadow, as she slipped out of the house, clutching her phone. He saw her head to the park, choosing a secluded bench beneath a weeping willow. His jaw clenched. He moved, quicker than he thought possible, his feet carrying him with surprising speed.

He arrived, his breath catching in his throat. Sarah, startled, looked up. Her face was a mask of guilt. John stood before her, a mountain against the wind, and said, "Who are you talking to? I want an answer."