Gemotions

The silence in the room was broken only by the crackling fire. "The first time we met," Ben started, a fond smile gracing his lips. "You were wearing that ridiculous hat, remember? And you spilled your ice cream all over me."

She went stiff. She didn't remember wearing a hat that day. And she certainly didn't remember spilling ice cream. She remembered *him* spilling his ice cream.

"It was so funny," he continued, chuckling.

Her chest constricted. Everything felt wrong. She gripped the arms of the chair, her knuckles turning white. His version of the story was a completely foreign concept. A cold sweat broke out across her forehead. The flames in the fireplace danced like mocking shadows.