Gemotions

Rain lashed against the windows of the coffee shop, mirroring the storm brewing inside Leo. He’d seen Maya, his Maya, across the crowded room, laughing with a stranger. He’d walked over, heart hammering a frantic rhythm against his ribs. She’d looked up, those familiar eyes meeting his, and offered a polite smile, a blank canvas of recognition. "Sorry, I don't think we've met." He’d mumbled something about a wrong assumption and retreated, the air suddenly too thick to breathe. He nursed his lukewarm latte, the warmth doing nothing to thaw the icy grip around his chest. The memory of scraped knees, treehouse forts, and whispered secrets felt like a phantom limb, aching with an absence he couldn't name.