Gemotions

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee did nothing to soothe the tension in the air. Michael, the “venture capitalist,” was looking at me, his shoulders hunched. He’d just admitted his “investments” were actually loans from his parents.

My hands were clenched. I took a long sip, pretending the bitterness of the coffee was the only thing bothering me. He sat there, waiting for my reaction, but I gave him nothing. Not a word. Not a glance. He’d lied to me for so long.

The silence grew, pressing down on the space between us. I stood, and slowly walked toward the door.