Gemotions

Rain lashed against the windowpane, mirroring the turmoil brewing inside Leo. He cradled a mug of tea, the ceramic warm against his trembling hands. The aroma of Earl Grey usually soothed him, but tonight, it only intensified the ache in his chest.

He'd found the manuscript tucked beneath a stack of magazines on the bedside table. His name, not his real name, but a thinly veiled version, plastered across the cover. It was a story, a story about them, their life together, their past.

He remembered their first date, the nervous laughter, the shared pizza. Now he replayed the scenes in his head with a new perspective, re-imagining them with a stranger’s voice. He missed the past. The simple, uncomplicated days before everything became a story.

He poured himself another cup of tea.