Gemotions

The meticulously planned farewell dinner felt like a trial. The restaurant, chosen by Michael, was too loud, too crowded, and too cheerful. She sat across from him, the table adorned with a centerpiece of vibrant, unnatural flowers. Every bite of food tasted like ash.

Michael was effusive, thanking everyone for their support and recounting stories of their friendship. She barely touched her plate, her appetite gone. His every word, every gesture, grated on her nerves. The clinking of silverware, the murmur of the other diners – it was all unbearable.

She excused herself from the table, feigning a need to use the restroom. She fled to the cold, stark confines of the bathroom, the tiled walls offering a brief moment of silence. She stared at her reflection, the anger hardening her features. She felt trapped. The remaining months would be a prison.