Gemotions

The last pizza night. The words echoed in her head, a mournful mantra. They were sitting in their usual booth, the air thick with the smell of garlic and anticipation. She watched as Michael, oblivious, happily devoured his slice, his face smeared with tomato sauce. She felt a sharp, stabbing pain in her chest. She wanted to yell at him to stop enjoying it, to acknowledge the impending chasm that was opening up between them. Instead, she plastered on a bright smile. "More pizza?" she offered, her voice brittle.