Gemotions

She traced the rim of her wine glass, the liquid sloshing with the tremor in her hand. The restaurant was buzzing with Friday night energy, but Amelia was miles away, adrift in a sea of unspoken words. Across from her, Liam was regaling their mutual friend, Chloe, with a tale about a disastrous attempt at building a treehouse.

The treehouse. She remembered the meticulous planning, the shared laughter, the quiet intimacy of working side-by-side. Liam, however, described a different project, a chaotic affair spearheaded by a boisterous group of friends, with her as a minor, almost irrelevant, participant. Her shoulders slumped. A hollow ache bloomed in her stomach, a feeling of vast emptiness.

She excused herself to the restroom, and stared into the mirror, her own face unfamiliar. The reflection was a stranger's, etched with the pain of an event erased, a history rewritten.