Gemotions

He felt a sudden, sharp pressure in his chest. His breath came in shallow, ragged gasps. The restaurant, usually a haven, now seemed to press in on him. He fidgeted with his silverware, the clinking sound grating on his nerves. Across the table, Sarah animatedly described her plans. He found himself staring at the intricate patterns on the tablecloth, trying to distract himself.

He wanted to scream, to shout. Instead, he forced a smile and asked a question, anything to delay the inevitable. The words felt foreign on his tongue, the sound of his own voice echoing in his ears. He looked around the room, desperate for a lifeline, a way out, as if trapped in a nightmare.