Gemotions

The cafe buzzed with Friday night chatter, but Amelia heard none of it. Her coffee sat untouched, growing cold. Across the small, round table, a woman with fiery red hair and a dazzling smile, who introduced herself as "Chloe," was recounting a hilarious tale about a disastrous pottery class. Amelia felt her carefully constructed world tilt on its axis. Chloe was describing the exact same embarrassing incident Amelia had shared with… with Mark. The same clumsy instructor. The same clay-covered disaster.

Her breath hitched. She stared, wide-eyed, at Chloe, a knot forming in her stomach. “Mark…?” she managed, her voice barely a whisper.

Chloe blinked, amusement fading from her face. “Yes? You know him too?” The air thickened. Amelia’s hand trembled as she reached for her water glass, her fingers fumbling, almost dropping it.