Gemotions

The photograph, faded and creased, felt like a betrayal. I stared at the picture of us, young and carefree, and then at her, now a stranger, across the crowded restaurant. "I don't recall you, at all," she'd said.

I felt a surge of heat, a burning sensation that started in my chest and radiated outwards. My hands fisted, nails digging into my palms. I wanted to spill my drink on her, to shatter the crystal glass against her perfectly composed face.

Instead, I took a long, slow sip of the cold water, the coldness offering a small reprieve. I forced a smile. "No problem," I said, my voice sounding unnaturally calm, almost detached.