Gemotions

Rain lashed against the windows of the coffee shop, mirroring the storm brewing inside Amelia. She tapped her perfectly manicured nails against the table, the rhythmic noise a counterpoint to the sugary sweetness of the music overhead. Thirty minutes late. He was always late. She'd texted him three times, each message escalating in passive aggression, beginning with a simple "Running late?" and ending with a clipped "Are you even coming?" A cold knot tightened in her stomach. This was the third time this week.

He finally arrived, a sheepish grin plastered across his face. "Sorry, babe! Work was a nightmare." He leaned in for a kiss, but Amelia pulled back, her jaw clenched. “Work?” she echoed, her voice tight. “Because a text would have taken too long?” Her eyes flicked to the phone. She needed to breathe, needed to get out of here.