Gemotions

The chipped mug slammed onto the counter, coffee sloshing over the side. Sarah glared at Liam. He was leaning back in his chair, a smug grin plastered across his face. “You’re telling me,” she began, her voice dangerously low, “that you remember the entire night being *my* idea? We were there because *I* wanted to go?” Her knuckles were white where they gripped the counter. He just shrugged, like it was the most natural thing in the world. The memory of the planning, the pleading, the fact *he* had been the one practically begging her to come… it all seemed to have evaporated from his mind. She felt a burning sensation in her chest, a heat that made her want to hurl something.