Gemotions

Rain lashed against the bakery window, blurring the streetlights into hazy orange globes. Amelia traced a finger on the condensation, a repetitive, absentminded gesture. Inside, the warm aroma of bread and pastries usually lifted her spirits, but tonight, it felt insufficient.

She was waiting for Leo. They were supposed to meet here, to reminisce about their trip to the coast, ten years ago. He was always late, and she found herself idly watching the door, already anticipating his arrival. The memory, a hazy painting in her mind, felt increasingly brittle.

She took a slow sip of her lukewarm coffee. Leo would likely arrive with a boisterous laugh and a different version of the story. She pictured the way he would describe the day. She could not imagine he would ever remember the damp cold on the coast. It made her chest tighten with something she couldn't name.