Gemotions

Rain lashed against the windows of the coffee shop, mirroring the storm inside Emily's chest. She tapped her manicured nails on the table, the rhythmic sound a frantic drumbeat against the silence. It had been two hours. Two hours she'd been meticulously crafting the perfect response, the witty rejoinder that would finally end this limbo. Her phone buzzed again, a message from her best friend, Sarah, telling her to stop by the bar to talk. This was the fourth time this month. She felt a burning need, a pressing urgency to prove something. A woman approached, her face pale, a small, velvet box clutched in her hand. "He said he’d be here..." she began, her voice barely a whisper.