Gemotions

He ran a hand through his hair, the gesture rough enough to tug a few strands loose. Liam stared at the empty beer bottle rolling slowly across the coffee table. Across the country. That's what Maya had said. As if it were a casual thing. As if their years of friendship, the late nights, the inside jokes, the shared history, didn't mean anything.

He felt the muscles in his shoulders knotting up, a familiar tension that always arrived when he felt powerless. He wanted to scream. He wanted to plead. He wanted to do something, anything, to stop her.

He picked up the bottle and hurled it against the wall, the glass shattering. The sound barely registered against the roar in his ears. He wasn't even sorry.