Gemotions

Rain hammered against the window of the art gallery, mirroring the frantic drumming of David's fingers on the worn leather of his messenger bag. He glanced at his watch for the tenth time in as many minutes. He’d made a conscious decision to give Sarah time; it was a rare trait he prized in himself. The gallery was small, intimate, filled with swirling colours that seemed to breathe with life. He focused on the canvases, allowing the art to absorb his nervous energy, willing himself to stay grounded.

A woman with fiery red hair, a colour he’d always associated with Sarah, walked in. She was beautiful, her face etched with a familiar mixture of anticipation and unease. When she saw him, a flash of recognition, then a carefully constructed smile, bloomed on her face. Her hesitation was obvious, but he just nodded politely.

"David?" she asked, her voice a little breathless.

"Yes," he replied evenly, turning back to the painting and allowing the silence to stretch.