Gemotions

The restaurant was too loud. The music, the chatter, the clinking of silverware – all of it amplified the throbbing in Emily’s temples. Across the table, James, her childhood confidant, ate a bite of his steak, seemingly oblivious. He’d said, “I’m afraid you have me confused with someone else.”

She pressed her palms flat against the cool tablecloth, trying to ground herself. Her stomach churned. The memory of the secret hideaway they’d built in the woods – gone, erased, meaningless.

She wanted to run, to disappear, to find a place where this impossible reality didn't exist. She focused on her breathing, trying to regain control. The waiter asked if she was enjoying her meal. She blinked, forcing a smile, and mumbled something about the food being fine.