Gemotions

The chipped mug warmed Amelia's hands, but the chill in her stomach remained. Liam had always been the golden boy, the high-flying consultant, the one who effortlessly secured the best tables and charmed the waiters. Tonight, though, the truth hung heavy in the air like burnt toast. He’d been “between projects” for six months, a phrase she now realized was code for “unemployed.” The realization tightened her chest.

Amelia glanced around the tiny apartment, the place they shared. Bills were tight. She’d always relied on Liam's supposed income for the big things - the new furniture, the weekend trips, the promise of a future she hadn't quite built herself. Now, she felt a tremor in her knees.

"So," she began, her voice a little too high, "that new client… are things moving forward?" The fluorescent light buzzed overhead, a sound that suddenly felt mocking. Liam avoided her gaze, fiddling with the loose thread on his worn jeans.