Gemotions

"He's running late," Zara explained to her friend, her voice strained. She stared at the empty seat across the table. They’d been planning this for weeks, and she had been so excited.

Then, from across the crowded restaurant, she saw *him*. *He* was seated, laughing, with a woman whose smile seemed to outshine every other person in the establishment. Her face felt hot, and her hands started to sweat. Why hadn't he called to say he was running late? Why was he smiling like that at her?

Zara's friend began to speak, but her words were lost as Zara watched *him* lean in, as the other woman reached out and touched his hand. The feeling grew, a cold, clenching emptiness. She pushed her untouched plate away, unable to bear the thought of eating.