Gemotions

The cafe air, usually a comforting warmth, felt suddenly too hot, pressing in on Leo. He smoothed his already perfect tie, a nervous tick he hadn't realized he still possessed. Across the small table, Chloe, his childhood companion, stared back with polite curiosity. She'd been lovely on the phone, ecstatic to reconnect after all these years. Now, though, as he launched into his carefully rehearsed anecdotes about their treehouse adventures, a flicker of…nothing…crossed her face. He stammered, the story of the stolen gnome shrinking in significance with each passing second. He picked at a stray thread on his jacket.

"Gnome? I don't recall a gnome," Chloe said, her voice gentle, but distant.

Leo’s smile faltered. His cheeks warmed, his hands fidgeting on the table. He felt exposed, foolish, as if he’d been caught reciting lines from a play no one else was in.