Gemotions

"Just ignore it," Liam muttered to himself, but the words felt hollow, inadequate. He clicked the icon again, staring at the profile picture of the person he'd spent years trying to forget. It was Brad. He could feel his pulse in his ears.

He went to the fridge and grabbed a beer, though it wasn't even noon. The icy bottle offered a temporary distraction, a cold anchor in the swirling chaos of his thoughts. He took a long, slow swallow. Then another.

He knew he should do something productive. Wash the dishes. Mow the lawn. Anything to avoid the constant thrum of anxiety buzzing beneath his skin. He opened the fridge again, wanting to look at the beer again, and slammed the door shut.