Gemotions

It wasn't the calls themselves, but the betrayal of trust. The stolen whispers, the closed doors, the secret phone. A bitterness began to bubble inside her, a potent, acidic brew. She felt a need to balance the books.

She knew his favorite restaurant. She made a reservation under his name, for a party of twenty, on a night he was supposed to be working late. She then called the restaurant to ensure everything was perfect.

When he arrived, utterly bewildered and furious, she was sitting alone at the bar, nursing a drink. She watched his reaction, the stunned silence, the frantic whispers. She was pleased.