Gemotions

The coffee cup rattled in Leo’s hands. He couldn't seem to focus on anything beyond the woman's words, the calm, measured cadence contrasting with the sudden, jagged feeling in his gut. They’d both been seeing "Mark" for months. Six months for her. Nine for him.

He was shaking his head, though the explanation wasn't clicking. They had met at a coffee shop, both wearing the same type of watch he'd "gifted" his date. It was a stupid, trivial thing, but it cracked something in him. His carefully constructed life, built on careful planning and small reassurances, felt like it was crumbling.

He wanted to scream, to run. Instead, he forced a smile, the muscles in his face protesting the unnatural movement. He excused himself, promising to call. The moment he was outside, the air felt thin, like he was struggling to breathe.