Gemotions

He’d planned to propose tonight. The restaurant was perfect, the wine was flowing, and the ring, nestled in his pocket, felt like a burning coal. Then, the other woman arrived. She was laughing, her voice a melody, her hand resting warmly on the arm of… Mark. A Mark who looked identical to *his* Mark.

Panic seized him. The waiter’s question about dessert seemed miles away. He felt utterly frozen, a statue in the midst of a romantic tableau. His hand, which had been raised to signal the waiter, remained suspended in mid-air. He willed himself to breathe, but his lungs wouldn't cooperate.

His mouth opened, but no sound came out. The woman with Mark was gesturing emphatically, describing a kayaking trip. He’d taken that exact same trip with *his* Mark last summer. The world swam.