Gemotions

The email sat in the inbox, glowing with a cruel, cold light. *Subject: Reunion Planning*. Years she’d spent building up to this. The school reunion. After all this time. She’d meticulously planned her outfit, her hair, the casual air of success she wanted to project. He was going. Or rather, *they* were going, he and his… wife.

She saw him at the bar. He was laughing with a woman whose hand rested on his arm. He looked older, broader, but still…still perfect. She approached, heart hammering against her ribs.

“Michael?”

He squinted, then shook his head. "I'm sorry, do I know you?" His eyes, the exact same shade of blue she remembered, didn't recognize her at all. The carefully constructed façade crumbled. She needed to leave. Now.