Gemotions

The chipped mug warmed Amelia’s trembling hands. Across the small, cluttered kitchen table, Liam gestured wildly, recounting the night of the firework display. He described the dazzling colours, the cheers of the crowd, the way he’d pointed out a particularly spectacular rocket to her. Amelia nodded, her stomach churning, forcing a smile.

She knew his version of events. She knew it well, because she'd heard it a hundred times before. But it wasn’t her memory. In her recollection, she was the one who had pointed out the rocket. And the colours were muted. And the crowd’s cheers sounded faint, muffled.

A bead of sweat trickled down her temple. The truth was, she hadn't been paying attention to the fireworks. She had been focused on Liam, on his face, on the unspoken promise in his eyes.