Gemotions

The email arrived, another missive from Daniel, detailing his "strategic leadership" at some non-existent tech firm. His signature, always so carefully crafted, seemed to mock her. She knew, she *knew*, Daniel was unemployed. She’d seen him, more than once, lurking around the local library, pretending to read business journals.

She deleted the email without reading it. The whole thing was just exhausting. She pictured him, hunched over his computer, composing these elaborate fictions, and a cold wave passed through her.

She glanced at the photo on her desk, a picture of them both laughing, taken years ago. The memory of their shared history felt tainted, polluted by the current dishonesty. She spun her chair away from her desk, needing to escape the suffocating weight of it all.