Gemotions

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee, usually a comfort, felt like a betrayal. They were in the kitchen. She had seen the book on the counter. She had read the first page. It was about them.

She busied herself with making toast, her movements precise and deliberate. She would not let him see her distress. The air crackled with a tension she could cut with a knife. Each word, each shared glance, seemed laden with unspoken accusations.

He finally walked to her and kissed her, and as he did, she thought about the book.