Gemotions

The empty gallery echoed with the sound of his own shoes. He clutched the crumpled flyer, his knuckles white. Her art exhibition, a life’s work unveiled. He’d envisioned this moment, the pride in her eyes as she recognized him, the shared laughter over the years. But she greeted him with a polite smile, a handshake. “Beautiful work,” he'd mumbled, the words feeling hollow and meaningless.

He wandered through the silent room, each canvas a testament to a life he wasn't a part of. The vibrant colors, the bold strokes, the evident passion, all seemed to mock him. He felt an icy grip around his heart.

He felt the sting in his eyes as he turned away, the gallery lights blurring into streaks of color. He wanted to turn back and ask her, “Don’t you remember anything?” But the words remained trapped, unspoken.