Gemotions

The restaurant was packed, the air thick with the murmur of conversations and the clinking of glasses. Maya felt a knot tighten in her stomach as she watched him. Mark. The Mark she’d been dating. He was laughing, really, truly laughing, with…her. With *her*.

She didn't know the other woman. She had a cascade of blonde hair, laughing eyes, and a hand resting on Mark's arm. It was a comfortable, familiar touch. A touch that felt terribly, acutely wrong to Maya.

Her vision swam. She felt a strong urge to flee, to disappear. She gripped the back of her chair so hard her knuckles turned white. The polite smile she’d been wearing felt like a grotesque mask.