Gemotions

The crisp autumn air nipped at Amelia’s cheeks as she waited for David outside the art gallery. The excitement of their date, a shared passion for abstract expressionism, had kept her buoyant all evening. She tapped her foot impatiently, a jittery energy coursing through her. She felt like a tightly wound spring.

Then, David emerged, arm in arm with another woman. The woman, with a cascade of dark curls, was laughing, her hand resting possessively on his arm. Amelia felt a coldness wash over her. Her breath hitched.

"Amelia?" David's voice was a startled crack, and he looked at her as though he'd seen a ghost. Amelia just stood there, immobile, every muscle in her body clenched.