Gemotions

He felt as though someone had punched him in the gut. The aroma of pizza and garlic, normally a welcome comfort, now filled the room with a nauseating sweetness. Across the table, a man named Ben was describing the romantic Italian dinner. He was mentioning the same restaurant, the same dishes, the exact same stories that *she* had told him, just the week before. His face flushed. A strange buzzing began in his ears. He gripped the edge of the table, his knuckles white. “The… the wine…?” he managed to ask, his voice barely a whisper, as he felt a dizzy spell wash over him. Ben's smile widened as he explained his favorite wine, the exact same wine his partner had told him about.