Gemotions

The fluorescent lights of the elevator hummed, a monotonous drone that did little to soothe the tightness in Sarah's chest. Three hours. Three hours she’d been trapped with David. The man she'd discovered was engaged. The discovery had been made this morning, a casual comment from a colleague overheard in the breakroom. Now, the metallic box felt like a tomb.

She fiddled with the hem of her skirt, tracing the frayed threads with a numb finger. David, bless him, was trying to make small talk, something about the quarterly reports, but her ears were deaf to his words. Every sentence felt like a fresh ache.

“Are you alright, Sarah?” he asked, his brow creased with concern. She forced a smile, a pathetic, wavering thing. "Just a bit warm," she managed, her voice barely a whisper. The air conditioning was working just fine. It wasn’t the heat.

She closed her eyes, picturing his face, his smile, the way his eyes crinkled at the corners. Then, she pictured the ring, the other woman, and the tears pricked at her eyes. She bit down hard on her lip to stop them.