Gemotions

The rain hammered against the windows of the small antique shop, blurring the already dim interior. He recognized the delicate curve of her neck, the way she ran her fingers over the dusty objects. She had always loved old things.

He strolled up beside her, pretending to examine a chipped teacup. "Emily, right?"

She turned, her eyebrows arching slightly. "Yes…?"

He couldn’t quite stifle the bubbling that rose from his stomach. "It's Jack. The one who broke his arm trying to climb your tree, remember?" He watched her carefully.

Emily shook her head. "I've had a lot of trees in my life, I don't think I recall that particular incident."