Gemotions

The flickering candlelight danced across the familiar, slightly mismatched furniture in Maya's childhood home. She'd come back to help her mother pack things up. Her memories were swirling around her, just like the smoke from the incense her mother always burned. It felt like yesterday that she and Liam were young. Liam, who had always claimed to be a renowned neurosurgeon.

She’d seen him this morning, fixing a leaky faucet at his neighbor’s house. He had a plumber’s tool bag. He grinned at her, the same easy, familiar grin she remembered. He seemed happier, more at peace.

Maya found herself smiling ruefully. The air was thick with the scent of pine needles and old photos. It was as though all the stories she'd told herself about her friend were crumbling.