Gemotions

Rain lashed against the windows, mirroring the tempest inside Amelia. Liam was across from her, a picture of insufferable calm, sipping his tea as if they weren’t on the precipice of a full-blown argument. "But Liam," she began, her voice tight, "you *know* what happened! I saw it! I *lived* it!"

He blinked, that infuriatingly innocent expression plastered on his face. "Amelia, I'm just saying… maybe it wasn't quite how you remember it."

Amelia slammed her fist on the table, the china rattling precariously. The gesture made her chest clench. Her jaw ached. She felt a burning need to scream. Her memory, vivid and real, felt like it was being dismissed, erased. "Don't you dare patronize me. The red dress, the spilled wine, *you* were the one who—"

He held up a hand, deflecting, the movement somehow incredibly irritating. The gentle sway of the curtains seemed to mock her. "Look, it was a long time ago. Details get… skewed."