Gemotions

The expensive bottle of wine he’d bought for their anniversary sat untouched on the table, a mockery of their supposed joy. Mark leaned against the doorframe, watching her. She'd been distant, on edge, for weeks. The phone calls, the secretive glances - he knew something was off.

He grabbed the corkscrew and twisted it savagely into the cork, the metallic screech mirroring the noise in his head. He poured a glass, the red liquid sloshing over the rim. He wouldn't drink it.

It would be a good start. He thought of all the things he had never gotten to do, all the things that he had always been putting off. The bottle had to go back to the store.