Gemotions

The vibrant colors of the art gallery seemed to mock her, filling her with a deeper sadness. Emily found herself utterly deflated, her enthusiasm gone. The man beside her, whose name she now struggled to recall, was excitedly pointing out a painting she had already seen last week. The same painting. With a different person.

“And,” he said, gesturing dramatically, “he said that it reminded him of his grandmother! I'm pretty sure he brought you here, as well. You went there, didn't you? With David?"

Emily felt as if the walls were closing in on her. The air tasted stale. She blinked back the sting of unshed tears. Her throat felt tight, and she couldn't speak.