Gemotions

The afternoon sun streamed through the window of Amelia's small apartment, illuminating the dust motes dancing in the air. Across from her sat Ben, the man who had always been a font of outlandish tales of being a secret agent. Now, he was telling the truth: he worked at a local convenience store. Amelia's chest felt tight.

She was surprised, but even more so, she was overcome by a wave of something akin to protectiveness. All she could focus on was the way Ben’s hands fidgeted and the way he wouldn’t make eye contact. The air hung thick with unspoken words, with unspoken truths.

"How long?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper. She thought of the stories she had believed, the adventures she had imagined, all colored with his elaborate lies. It was a strange sense of loyalty she felt, a longing to bridge the gap.