Gemotions

"You seem distracted," she said, her voice laced with a subtle sharpness he hadn’t heard before. They were at a museum, a place they’d planned to enjoy together. The art on the walls blurred before his eyes. He found he could only see the other man's face from their shared photos on social media.

“No, no, just tired,” he mumbled. His stomach churned. The quiet of the gallery, once comforting, felt like a cage. He watched her across the room, as she stopped to look at a particular piece, the curve of her neck, the way she tilted her head. She was smiling, but it wasn't the smile he was used to. A dull ache settled in his chest, a heavy weight.

He found he couldn't concentrate, the art becoming meaningless. He wanted to scream. He forced a smile and offered to leave.