Gemotions

"So, you're the one who likes camping?" Emily asked, attempting a casual tone, even as a cold sweat broke out on her forehead. Across the picnic blanket, sat a woman named Jessica, who was wearing the same hiking boots that Ben had worn last weekend, the same boots he'd said were his favorites.

The picnic basket, filled with the exact kind of food Ben had requested the other day, was a stark reminder of her deception. Emily's stomach felt as if it had dropped to her feet. Jessica chattered on about their trip, about the beautiful scenery and the campfire stories.

Emily fumbled with her sandwich, unable to take a bite. The words seemed to stick in her throat. Each word, each shared experience, felt like a deliberate jab. She fought to keep her voice steady, to appear unconcerned, but her composure was crumbling.