Gemotions

The notification on Maya's phone was the digital equivalent of a slap in the face. A wave of heat washed over her, making her cheeks flush. She dropped her phone onto the cafe table, the sound lost in the general din of the lunchtime crowd. She felt trapped in her own body, unable to breathe properly.

She stabbed at her latte with her spoon, swirling the foam into a muddy vortex. The woman across from her, a friend, started to speak, but Maya cut her off with a sharp, dismissive wave. The carefully constructed façade of calm she usually wore cracked, revealing the raw disappointment underneath. She just wanted to scream.