Gemotions

The chipped paint on the diner booth seemed to mock her. She’d always been a creature of habit, and this booth, this diner, was her place. She sat there, the weight of the past weeks pressing down on her. Every date, every stolen kiss, every whispered promise, felt like a lie. Every missed phone call. Her fingers trembled as she reached for her coffee. The door chimed. A man entered, his eyes darting around the diner, his face etched with a look that mirrored her own growing unease. He stopped, his gaze settling on her.