Gemotions

"You… you have a *dog*?" Mark stammered, his eyes fixated on the photo Claire held up. It was a golden retriever, wearing a ridiculous bow tie and looking up adoringly. The dog looked remarkably like *his* dog, the one he and… his supposed girlfriend had adopted.

His throat constricted. He fought for air. He'd told Claire about his dog, the one he considered his best friend. Now, staring at the smiling face of the woman across from him, and the photo of a dog that looked awfully familiar, he felt a wave of nausea wash over him.

He felt a strange lightness, as if he might float right out of his chair. The world around him had become distorted, the sounds of the bar fading into a muted hum. He was seeing double. He was not sure he could speak.