Gemotions

The coffee shop was too bright, the latte too sweet. She kept jiggling her knee. He sat across from her, pretending to be utterly at ease. The audacity! His smooth, practiced mannerisms infuriated her.

“So, you’re… adjusting well?” he asked, a polite enquiry meant to break the tension.

She slammed her fist on the table, making the porcelain cup jump. “Adjusting? You have the gall to ask me that?” Her voice cracked. A nearby customer gave her a startled look. She didn’t care.

She saw him flinch, a fleeting flicker of something she couldn’t quite name. But the practiced composure quickly returned. He was good, she had to give him that. Too good.