Gemotions

The park bench felt cold and unwelcoming. Rain drizzled, mirroring the chill that had settled deep within David’s bones. He’d come here, hoping for a sunny afternoon with *her*. Instead, he’d found another woman, staring at him with a similar expression of dawning horror.

He pushed a stray strand of hair from his forehead, a futile gesture against the downpour. *She* had said he was out of town. He'd said the same to her. The shared lie felt like a concrete slab crushing him.

His gaze flicked towards the other woman, whose name he still didn't know. He wanted to lash out, to scream at her, to blame her for the wreckage of his romantic illusion. Instead, he took a deep breath, the damp air doing little to soothe the churning in his gut. “He’s a liar,” he finally said, the words flat and devoid of emotion, a dangerous calm settling over him.