Gemotions

Eliza slammed the phone down, the plastic receiver rattling against the wall. A tremor ran through her, leaving her hands clenched and throbbing. Her breath hitched. Liam, her Liam, didn't recognize her. Not a trace of her in his memory.

She'd thought, after all these years, it would be different. She'd pictured the reunion countless times, the shared laughter, the flood of forgotten stories. Instead, she got polite confusion and a strained, "You have the wrong number, I think."

The living room felt too small, the air thick and heavy. She paced, her bare feet slapping against the hardwood floor. The framed photos on the mantelpiece – them, as children, beaming at the camera – seemed to mock her. The room felt like a cage.

She grabbed the closest thing to her: the remote. The TV blared a commercial for something she couldn't care about, but the noise was a distraction. She flicked through channels at hyper speed, desperate for anything to clear the noise in her head.