Gemotions

The coffee shop was suddenly too warm. He’d ordered a latte, black, no sugar, just like he always did. But today, the foam seemed to mock him, swirling in a pattern he found endlessly fascinating. He was here, by some miracle of scheduling, at the same cafe as her, the same one where she'd been working. Sarah. The girl who used to delight in making him cry on the playground. Now, she was a therapist.

He watched her from across the room, the way she effortlessly gestured while speaking to the barista, the way her brow furrowed in concentration as she reviewed a notepad. It was mesmerizing. His hands wouldn't stop fidgeting with the straw.

He caught her eye and she offered a small, polite smile. His face heated instantly. He wanted to vanish, to run, to rewind time, but he stayed rooted to the chair, the coffee suddenly bitter on his tongue, his stomach doing somersaults.