Gemotions

"No," David whispered, the words barely audible. He clutched the email tighter, the screen reflecting the harsh fluorescent light of his office. His hands began to tremble. It was just a restaurant, he reasoned, but it wasn't just any restaurant. It was "The Cozy Corner Cafe," where he and Sarah had shared their first kiss.

He felt a tightness in his chest, a physical restriction that made it difficult to breathe. Memories flooded his mind: the worn wooden tables, the warm glow of the lamps, the smell of freshly brewed coffee. He imagined the spot where they had sat, now empty.

He abruptly stood, knocking over his chair. He needed to get out, needed air. He walked through the office, and the familiar faces seemed indistinct, far away. He felt detached, as if he were observing a play from a distance.