Gemotions

It wasn’t a question of if, but when. She should have prepared herself, but the reality still punched her in the solar plexus. He was leaving. For good.

Her hands clenched into fists, nails digging into her palms. She bit her lip so hard she tasted blood. Their usual coffee shop was suddenly suffocating. She couldn’t look at him, focused instead on the way the steam from her untouched latte was rising.

“It’s just… a better opportunity,” he’d explained. The words sounded flat and empty. She wanted to scream, to lash out, but she kept the words bottled up, hidden behind a carefully constructed mask of civility.