Gemotions

The photograph lay on the table. A faded image of him and Lily, children, beaming at the camera, their faces smudged with dirt. He’d brought it to her, a gesture of remembrance. He found her at a book reading, a small gathering of people.

"Lily?" he asked, trying to sound casual, confident.

She glanced up, her expression politely curious. "Yes?"

He showed her the picture, pointing at the two small figures. "Do you remember…?" His voice trailed off, the words dissolving into the air.

She studied the photo, her face blank. “I’m sorry, I don’t recognize it.” He felt as if a vital piece of him had been ripped away. The room seemed to tilt slightly, and the sounds around him dimmed. He quietly left the event, his mind reeling.