Gemotions

"So, you're… Michael?" The words hung in the air, weighted with a kind of blankness. He nodded, trying to force a smile, a grimace that felt stuck to his face. She’d looked at him with polite interest, a stranger's curiosity. The memories, once vibrant and rich, now felt like a fragile, fading dream.

He’d driven three hours for this. Three hours of anticipation, of rehearsing conversations, of imagining the reunion. Now, he felt the familiar grip of something hard in his gut, a tightness that wouldn’t go away.

He pushed his untouched plate of food away, the steak suddenly unappetizing. He'd wanted to share this meal, to reminisce, to reconnect. Instead, he felt a chasm opening between them, a gulf he couldn't bridge.