Gemotions

It was the flowers. The same arrangement, the same florist. He'd presented them to her last week. The woman, whom he was now kissing in front of him, had the same bouquet. A tremor went through him, his hands involuntarily clenching and unclenching. He'd been fooled, made a fool of. The thought clawed at him, a cold, biting wind in his chest. His breath hitched. He wanted to shout, to tear down the entire idyllic scene. He wanted to do something to destroy the happiness he was witnessing. Instead, he just stood there, paralyzed, watching his world crumble.