Gemotions

He felt the metallic tang of tears at the back of his throat. He’d waited, he'd hoped. He’d imagined the moment a million times. He'd followed her across town, finally working up the nerve to approach her at the local bookstore. He’d said her name, the name he hadn't spoken aloud in years: "Chloe?" Her face, a mask of polite indifference, had crinkled with confusion.

He had expected recognition, a spark of memory, but there was only a polite, "I'm sorry, do I know you?" It was as if a part of his life had been erased.

He walked aimlessly, the city lights blurring through his tear-filled eyes, the words echoing in his mind.

He couldn’t sleep. He sat on his bed, the covers rumpled.