Gemotions

The dog-eared manuscript lay open on the coffee table. Amelia stared at it, her cheeks suddenly hot. David’s handwriting, neat and familiar, filled the page. She recognized the scene immediately: their first date, the awkward silence punctuated by nervous laughter, the overly enthusiastic waiter. A creeping heat flushed up her neck.

She snatched the book up, her fingers fumbling with the cover. She had no idea he was writing a novel, let alone *about* her. The thought sent a fresh wave of mortification washing over her. She couldn’t bring herself to read the next page. It felt intensely personal, like she was intruding on something sacred.

“David,” she began when he walked in, her voice sounding oddly high-pitched. She cleared her throat. “What…what is this?” He smiled, clearly proud, but her reaction quickly deflated his enthusiasm.