Gemotions

He was always on edge these days, pacing the small apartment like a caged animal. Every creak of the floorboards sent him spinning around, his eyes darting to the windows. I found myself mirroring his behavior, my own senses heightened, every subtle shift in his mood, every missed glance, a knot tightening in my stomach. When the phone rang, I held my breath. It was a strange number. He practically leaped to answer it, disappearing into the bedroom, closing the door firmly behind him.

I waited by the door, listening. I focused on trying to determine any words. Nothing.

Finally he emerged, his face a mask. He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Just a client," he said, too quickly. The phone, which he held in his hand, was now my main subject of scrutiny. I knew it.