Gemotions

He ran a hand through his hair, the gesture more a sign of internal turmoil than a grooming habit. The apartment felt too small, the walls closing in. He'd trusted. He’d opened himself up. And for what?

The doorbell rang. He opened it to find a woman, her face a mask of disappointment. It was the same disappointment that he felt. He had seen her on his social media. The same smile, the same profile picture. He knew who it was immediately.

"He's not coming, is he?" she asked, her voice flat. He shook his head, unable to speak. The air in the hallway felt thick, suffocating. He needed out.