Gemotions

The car ride home, which had started with promises of a romantic evening, ended in a strained silence. The car's interior, previously filled with laughter and shared interests, felt suddenly cramped and unpleasant. Jessica, the woman in the passenger seat, was attempting to describe a “unique” art exhibit. Except, the same exhibit, with the same enthusiastic inflection, had been the topic of conversation with another date a week ago.

She pulled over to the side of the road, the sudden movement causing her stomach to churn. Everything about this felt wrong. She leaned her head against the headrest, the leather cold against her skin.

"I have to go," she said, her voice brittle. The way the man looked at her, the concern in his eyes, was all too familiar. She could almost predict his next words.