Gemotions

The flickering neon sign of the bar across the street seemed to throb in time with the frantic rhythm in Amelia's chest. She tapped her foot, a staccato beat against the cold pavement. Every few seconds, she'd glance at her phone, the screen reflecting the city lights back at her. Her date, Mark, was late. Again. He’d promised to meet her an hour ago, but the minutes just ticked by. She felt a prickling sensation at the back of her neck. Something felt off.

She took a shaky breath and tried to focus on the window display of the bookstore beside her. The scent of old paper and leather, normally comforting, now did nothing to soothe the tightness in her shoulders. Suddenly, a figure emerged from the bar, silhouetted against the dim interior. It was Mark, but he wasn’t alone. Another woman was clinging to his arm, laughing. Amelia's stomach dropped.

Mark saw her, his smile faltering. The other woman turned, her face a mask of confusion. "Amelia?" she asked, her voice laced with a questioning tone. "You're… Amelia?"