Gemotions

He had tracked down the woman who had captivated his young imagination. After years of wondering where she had ended up, Ben had finally located her, and approached, heart fluttering in his chest. And then came the crushing words.

“I’m afraid I don’t have any recollection of you,” she had said, her tone professional, her face blank. “Are you sure you haven’t made a mistake?”

The air in the upscale restaurant seemed to thicken, the clinking of silverware a grating noise. The carefully arranged floral arrangements seemed gaudy, the laughter of the other diners irritating. A hot flush crept up Ben’s neck. He wanted to push over the table, to ruin the perfect facade of her life, to force her to see him, to remember. But all he could manage was a strained smile and a hasty retreat. He excused himself, barely able to meet her gaze, and fled outside, gasping for air.