Gemotions

"You… you do *what*?" Ben choked out, the words catching in his throat. He felt like the air had been sucked out of the room. Across the table, Liam, previously the suave, globe-trotting "international businessman," fidgeted, his gaze darting away. The truth, that he worked a desk job at a shipping company, hung heavy in the air, a poisonous gas. Ben felt a cold sweat prickle across his forehead.

He felt a deep, hollow ache in his chest, as if a vital organ had been ripped out. He could barely focus on anything. The vibrant colors of the restaurant's decor seemed to bleed together, the chatter of other diners morphing into a meaningless drone. He wanted to get up and run, to escape this suffocating revelation. He gripped his water glass so hard that the crystal felt like it might shatter.