Gemotions

The pristine white walls of the gallery seemed to close in, the air thick and oppressive. The art, once beautiful, now mocked me with its vibrant colors and meaningless shapes. Across the room, amidst a cluster of chattering socialites, stood Emily. My Emily.

She had turned, and I’d tried to catch her eye. But her gaze had swept right past me as if I was invisible. “Do I know you?” she asked, a polite question that cut like a shard of ice.

I forced a smile, the muscles in my face protesting. “It's David. We used to…we used to do everything together.” He blinked, then shook his head, a vague smile on his face. He turned back to his conversation, leaving me standing there, a solitary figure in a sea of strangers. My breath hitched in my throat. I felt a tightening in my chest, a physical ache that bordered on nausea.