Gemotions

The cold air of the museum settled around him, a stark contrast to the sudden heat that flushed through Leo’s cheeks. He had found her, finally, after all these years. He had seen Sarah, standing in front of the Monet exhibit, her back to him. He approached her, eager to reconnect. When she turned, her face was a mask of polite incomprehension. "I don't believe we've been introduced," she said, her voice carefully neutral.

He felt a pressure build behind his eyes, a stinging sensation that threatened to spill over. His hands clenched into fists, the nails digging into his palms.

The vibrant colors of the paintings around them seemed to fade, becoming muted and distant. He looked at her, searching for some sign, some hint of recognition, a flicker of the past. There was only the polite, blank expression.

The weight of the unknown settled upon him, a crushing burden. He struggled to breathe.