Gemotions

He had finally done it. He, Mark, had finally found her. The woman of his dreams, Sarah. Dinner at that fancy Italian place had gone *perfectly*. He could barely contain himself. He walked with a bounce in his step, and the air smelled sweeter, the streetlights seemed to shine brighter. He reached into his pocket, eager to pull out his phone and message her again, to say *anything*. He wanted to talk to her, just to hear her voice again.

He saw her across the street, a familiar figure, laughing with a man who was very definitely *not* him.

The man’s arm was around her waist. Mark's heart began to thrum against his ribs, a frantic, chaotic drumbeat. His breath hitched.

He crossed the street and, with a smile pasted on his face, approached the couple. "Sarah, what a coincidence!" he said, his voice sounding hollow even to his own ears. "Fancy meeting you here!"

The woman didn't look happy. She seemed very, very uncomfortable.