Gemotions

The ringing phone. The way he’d answered, then immediately stepped out onto the balcony, the door closing with a deliberate click. He thought she couldn’t hear, but the wind carried his words, soft whispers of a secret life. She waited until he returned, then offered him a cup of tea.

She’d spent the afternoon researching his hobbies, things he’d mentioned in passing. The model train set he’d proudly displayed in the living room; she carefully removed each individual piece, meticulously placing them in a shoebox, and then hid it in the attic, in the very back where it would take hours to get to, and more to put together again.

That night, she asked, “So, how was your day, darling?” Her voice was sweet, almost cloying. He talked about his train set. She watched him, his face twisting with a mixture of annoyance and dismay. She took another sip of tea.