Gemotions

The takeout container slipped from Maya's grasp, scattering greasy lo mein across the pristine white tablecloth. "David...what?" Her voice cracked, a tiny sound swallowed by the sudden ringing in her ears. He hadn't just admitted to working at a *call center*. He'd been claiming to be a marine biologist for five years! She felt a strange tingling in her fingertips, like they were made of static. His face, usually so animated, now wore a mask of careful neutrality, which only amplified the absurdity of everything. She wanted to scream, to lash out, but all that emerged was a shaky breath.

The restaurant, once a haven of comfortable familiarity, now seemed to press in on her, the clatter of silverware and hushed conversations morphing into a deafening roar. She pushed back her chair, the legs scraping across the floor in a way that made her teeth ache. Her stomach churned. A marine biologist! All those stories about kelp forests and whale migrations… lies. Every single one. She fumbled for her purse, her hands clumsy and uncoordinated, the strap tangling around her wrist.