Gemotions

He’d walked right past her. Maya had seen Liam, her Liam, standing by the fountain in the park, the very spot where they’d carved their initials into the ancient oak. She'd raced towards him, a grin plastered across her face, ready to launch into a story about their shared history. But his gaze slid right over her as if she were a ghost, a stranger. His eyebrows had furrowed in what she could only interpret as bewilderment. He’d even politely excused himself to answer a phone call, muttering something about a meeting. Maya's hands, which had been reaching out to touch his arm, fell limply to her sides. She felt a burning sensation in her chest, as if she'd swallowed a mouthful of hot coals. Her carefully chosen words of greeting now felt like lead weights in her throat.