Gemotions

A grin threatened to split Michael's face as he raced down the sidewalk. He clutched the weathered photograph in his hand, a faded image of himself and Emily, kids with scraped knees and ice cream smeared faces. Today was the day. He had been planning this for weeks.

He practically bounced into the bookstore, the bell above the door chiming merrily. Emily worked behind the counter, her dark hair pulled back in a neat bun. He recognized the dimple on her cheek, the one that always appeared when she was concentrating.

"Emily?" Michael blurted out, a wide smile plastered on his face. He felt his heart practically leap into his throat. She looked up, her brow furrowing slightly, as she scanned his face. "I'm sorry," she replied, a puzzled look in her eyes. "Have we met?" The air whooshed out of him, leaving a hollow ache in its place.