Gemotions

The cafe door chimed, a brittle, high-pitched sound that seemed to amplify the drumming in Amelia's chest. She smoothed down the front of her dress, a subconscious gesture she repeated three times before taking a tentative step forward. Across the room, Liam sat at a small table near the window, sunlight illuminating his face. She’d spent weeks preparing for this, but suddenly, the meticulously crafted script in her head evaporated like morning mist.

Her palms felt slick. She gripped the strap of her bag so hard that her knuckles ached. This was it. The moment of truth. She willed her legs to move.

He looked up, and their eyes met. A flicker of polite curiosity crossed his face. He didn't recognize her.

"Liam?" she managed, her voice sounding oddly high-pitched and unfamiliar to her own ears.