Gemotions

The restaurant was too loud, the music too jaunty. Every laugh, every clink of glasses grated on her nerves. She pushed her untouched pasta around her plate, the sauce becoming a congealed, unappetizing mess. He was across from her, feigning interest in the conversation. Her stomach was twisting.

She’d seen the number on his phone, the one he scrambled to hide when she walked into the room. A number she didn't recognize. The polite facade they both wore was a thin veneer, easily broken.

"Are you even listening?" she finally asked, her voice dangerously low. His head snapped up, a startled look flashing across his face.