Gemotions

The request popped up during her morning coffee, the cheerful notification clashing brutally with the bitter brew. Sarah stared at the screen, the image of Kevin Riley, a man she’d spent years actively avoiding, a specter from her past, smiling back at her. Her hand tightened around the ceramic mug, her knuckles turning white.

She scanned his profile: a generic headshot, a list of hobbies, a few vague mutual friends. The casual banality of it all was almost infuriating. Didn’t he understand the damage he had inflicted? The humiliation, the self-doubt, the years spent rebuilding her shattered confidence?

She slammed the mug onto the counter, the sound echoing in the silent kitchen. The rage she usually kept bottled up, burst forth. Kevin, in a sea of online content, wanted to be "friends". She envisioned his intentions as shallow, seeking her out to "make up" for the past.

She considered various reactions, each more vicious than the last. A witty reply detailing the lasting impact of his behavior? A simple "no thanks" accompanied by a block? She felt a hot flush creep up her neck.

She turned off the computer, unable to look. The lingering feeling was akin to the lingering taste of cheap wine.