Gemotions

The coffee shop buzzed with chatter. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee, usually comforting, was now cloying, nauseating. They were supposed to be having a celebratory coffee, but all she felt was a slow, creeping burn inside. Across the small table, Ben was telling her how amazing this new job was going to be, how much better his life would be.

Her fingernails tapped a nervous rhythm against the tabletop. She couldn't meet his eyes, instead focusing on the swirling cream in her latte. It was disgusting. She took a large gulp, the hot liquid doing nothing to soothe the turmoil.

“That’s great, I guess,” she finally managed, the words tasting like ash in her mouth. She stood up abruptly. “I should get going.” The words felt like a hasty retreat, a desire to flee the space.