Gemotions

He’d said no again. "Absolutely not," he'd declared, his voice firm, his jaw tight. Sarah chewed on her lip, a familiar habit she’d been trying to break. The rejection was like a punch to the gut. The image of the fluffy golden retriever puppy she'd been imagining all week shattered into a million pieces.

Later, she found herself staring out the window, the city lights blurring through unshed tears. The usually comforting hum of the street noises felt like a cruel reminder of her isolation. She missed her family, missed feeling understood.

He was probably already back in his room, engrossed in his video game, oblivious to the emotional wreck he’d left behind. A wave of bitterness washed over her. She picked up a coaster and tossed it into the trash, the gesture a futile expression of her inner turmoil.