Gemotions

Eliza stood on the balcony, arms crossed, the cool night air doing little to soothe the heat that simmered beneath her skin. The city lights blurred below, their shimmering reflections dancing in the puddles on the pavement. She replayed the scene in her mind, over and over, the way it had unfolded during their hike. The mountain air had been supposed to invigorate, but instead it had felt like a suffocating pressure.

She'd thought she was doing the right thing, trying to help. But the way Mark had described it… he spoke as if she was to blame for everything. She recalled the way he had shut her down, dismissing her point of view.

The memory twisted like a knife. She closed her eyes, a sharp ache pressing behind her eyes. He said she was too sensitive. Maybe he was right. Maybe she was. But the feeling of being misunderstood, of being the villain in his narrative, was a bitter pill to swallow.