Gemotions

John felt a strange lightness in his chest. Across the crowded office, Emily was recounting a particularly dramatic tale of a lost canoe trip at Camp Clearwater. He knew that story. He remembered the exact spot, the rogue current, the panicked counselors. He fought the urge to interrupt, to offer his own version of events, to confirm or deny small details.

He’d known her for nearly a year. He’d never known. This shared past, this unspoken language, suddenly connected them in a way he hadn't anticipated. He felt a ridiculous grin forming. His hands fidgeted with the pen on his desk, and he felt a heat bloom up his neck.

“Wait,” he interrupted, his voice a little too loud. “Were you in the… the Green Cabins?”