Gemotions

The words hung in the air, shimmering. Across the worn wooden table of their favorite diner, Liam stared at Maya. Her usually animated face was subdued, a gentle smile gracing her lips as she spoke about the Pacific Northwest, about mountains and rain and a new beginning. He felt a tremor start in his chest, a rapid-fire drumming that spread to his fingertips. His coffee, half-drunk, sat forgotten, the steam curling away like a wisp of smoke.

He swallowed hard, the muscles in his throat suddenly tight. "Wow," he managed, his voice barely a whisper. He knew this was happening. He’d known it was possible, but the reality of it, the cold, hard fact of her departure, slammed into him. He needed to touch something, anchor himself. He reached out, his hand hovering over hers, but retreated at the last second.

His gaze swept around the familiar diner, the chipped Formica, the faded photographs on the walls. He’d known this place since they were kids. They had shared burgers and fries and secrets here for years. Now, this place felt like it was shifting before his very eyes. How was he supposed to get through his daily life without her?