Gemotions

David found himself drumming his fingers against the table, the rhythmic tap-tap-tap a counterpoint to the soft jazz playing in the restaurant. Across the candlelit table, Sarah laughed, her eyes crinkling at the corners. He hated it. A phantom pain gripped his chest when he thought about who she was talking to on the phone earlier.

He abruptly reached for his water glass, gulping down half the contents. The waiter, sensing the tension, approached. "Everything alright, sir?"

"Fine," David said, his voice clipped. He watched Sarah, every movement, every smile.

"Sorry, I had to take a work call," she said, her voice bright.

David nodded, pretending to be unfazed. But the knot in his gut refused to loosen. "Work, huh?" His voice was flat.