Gemotions

He had approached her with such bravado, ready to launch into his favorite childhood tale. Now, seeing the polite, vacant look on Maya's face, the words seemed to stick in his throat. He’d envisioned a warm embrace, a shared laugh, the instantaneous restoration of their connection. Instead, the air in the crowded bar felt thin, the music suddenly too loud.

His gaze darted around the room, avoiding hers. He felt the familiar heat creeping up his neck. He wanted to disappear, to rewind time, to erase the moment he’d spoken. “We used to sneak cookies from your mom’s kitchen?” he finally managed, his voice barely a whisper. The smile he offered felt strained, a pathetic imitation of the joy he'd anticipated.