Gemotions

The cafe was suddenly too hot, the air thick and stifling. Sarah ripped the flimsy paper cup from her latte, crushing it in her hand. Across the small, metal table, Mark – *his* Mark – was staring, his jaw slack. Lies, all lies. She’d been meticulously crafting dates with him for months, all while *he* sat here, probably weaving the exact same fabric of deceit. The thought of it made her stomach churn, a cold, hard knot. She wanted to throw the latte in his face, to scream until her voice cracked. Instead, she took a shaky breath and spoke, her voice dangerously calm, "So, you like hiking in the Redwoods too, huh?"