Gemotions

A cold sweat plastered itself to Leo's back as he listened to Chloe detail their disastrous attempt at building a treehouse. He'd been looking forward to a bit of nostalgia, but Chloe’s description of the joyous, collaborative effort hit him like a physical blow.

He saw the picture they’d taken, the half-built structure tilting precariously, and felt his stomach twist. He remembered the constant bickering, the frustration bubbling between them, the day culminating in a furious argument and a tearful retreat for him. Her laughter now sounded hollow, echoing in the cavern of the memory he inhabited.

He fiddled with the loose thread on his jeans, refusing to meet her gaze. The sunny afternoon in the park suddenly felt oppressive, the birdsong a mocking counterpoint to the discordant tune playing in his head. His fingers trembled as he picked at a scab on his hand. He mumbled something about needing more coffee and excused himself to the bathroom, desperate to escape the dissonance.