Gemotions

The small, cozy bookstore felt like a private haven, filled with the scent of old paper and leather. He’d told Sarah to meet him there, a place he felt a certain proprietorship over. He liked to think of it as *his* spot.

He'd picked out a first edition of her favorite author, a gift. A gesture that was supposed to solidify their bond, their secret, their connection.

He watched her walk in, arm-in-arm with another man, their heads bent close together, discussing a book.

The air seemed to thicken around him. He felt the blood rush to his face. He wanted to scream. He wanted to tear the book out of her hands.