Gemotions

"It’s ridiculous," muttered Olivia to herself, though the words were lost in the breeze. She had come to the yard sale to find a new chair, not to be confronted by her past. But there he was: Bartholomew, sitting in a pile of other forgotten treasures.

She felt the prickle of tears behind her eyes. The urge to flee was almost overwhelming.

She swallowed hard, forcing herself to approach the table. She looked around to see if anyone was watching. When no one was, she reached for him. The touch was as familiar as her own skin.