Gemotions

The upscale restaurant’s romantic lighting seemed mocking, casting distorted shadows on the faces of the two women now facing each other. The waiter, clueless, asked if they wanted to split the bottle of champagne. The woman on the left, named Chloe, made a strangled sound.

The air in the room was electric, thick with unspoken accusations and the unspoken question: *how could he?* Chloe ran a hand through her hair, a gesture that conveyed both exhaustion and a barely contained rage. She'd been telling her friends for weeks about this man. She'd built a future with him in her mind.

She glared at the untouched steak on her plate, the food suddenly inedible. She wanted to scream, to lash out, to do *something* to alleviate the pressure building inside her chest. The waiter came back with their drinks, they remained in silence.