Gemotions

The cafe was buzzing, a cacophony of chatter and clinking mugs that usually comforted Elara. Today, it felt like needles pricking at her skin. She gripped the lukewarm coffee tighter, knuckles bone-white. Then the music started. A piano, clear and bright, began the familiar chords. It was *her* song, a melody she’d poured her soul into, a testament to a love that had splintered. A woman's voice, smooth and confident, filled the space where hers had once resonated. Elara’s breath hitched; a cold wave washed over her. She couldn’t look. She stared at the swirling patterns in her coffee, the brown liquid suddenly seeming miles deep.