Gemotions

He’d said he was “working late.” Liam’s jaw clenched so tightly he thought it might shatter. That lie, among the countless others he’d been fed, now sat, festering, in the pit of his stomach. Across the park bench, a woman with a familiar smile and the same birthdate, offered him a chocolate truffle, the same brand he’d bought for Maya just last week. The air around him felt suddenly thin, as if oxygen had become a luxury he couldn't afford. He stood, knocking the woman’s hand, and the truffle, away. "Get away from me," he growled, the words scraping against his throat like rusty metal.