Gemotions

The cafe buzzed with Friday afternoon energy. Amelia stared, heart hammering, at the man across from her. It was Ben, her Ben. He smiled, a genuine crinkle around his eyes, and introduced himself as a marketing executive. He asked about her job, her life, all the while oblivious to the tremor in her hands as she stirred her coffee.

She felt a flush creep up her neck. Had she chosen the wrong outfit? The wrong cafe? They’d arranged this meeting after he'd responded to her message, thrilled to find her. Now, she felt like a fraud. She’d crafted the perfect online profile, one that didn’t mention the shared treehouse, the secret handshakes, the summer they vowed to run away together.

“So, you’re… Amelia?” he asked, tilting his head. The question seemed to echo with a weight she didn't know how to bear.

“Yes,” she finally replied, the word a small, insufficient thing. She couldn't bring herself to explain why she hadn't said anything about their shared history. It was too late, she told herself. He wouldn't believe her.