Gemotions

The cafe smelled of burnt coffee and desperation. Liam tapped his fingers against the laminated tabletop, a rhythmic staccato accompanying the saccharine chatter of other patrons. Across from him, a woman with hair the color of sunset laughed, a sound like wind chimes. It was Sarah, all grown up, all successful, all... unfamiliar.

He cleared his throat. "So, you don't… remember the treehouse?" He watched her face for a flicker, a spark of recognition. Instead, her brow furrowed, a tiny wrinkle appearing between her perfectly sculpted eyebrows.

"Treehouse? I don't think so, Liam." Her voice was smooth, polished, a stark contrast to the dirt-caked, giggling girl he remembered. "Sounds like something you'd have to tell me more about. Were you… a builder?"

He pushed his untouched cappuccino away. The bitterness of the coffee seemed to reflect the sudden, hollow ache in his chest. “Hardly.”