Gemotions

The phone vibrated in Liam’s hand. He ignored it. He stared at the Italian restaurant menu he’d been supposed to be studying, but his eyes refused to focus on the words. He’d seen the crumpled English-Japanese phrasebook under Maya’s pillow this morning. He felt a cold dread creeping into his bones.

He took a large gulp of iced water, the coldness doing little to quell the internal fire. He imagined her, meticulously writing down new characters, practicing the intonation. He felt a sharp, stabbing sensation in his gut.

He threw the menu onto the table. He stood up, knocking over his chair. He had to leave. He had to escape this suffocating feeling. He had to go.