Gemotions

The aroma of lavender and sandalwood hung heavy in the air, a scent she'd come to associate with Liam. He always wore it, the comforting smell a signal of his presence. Now, as she sat across from a woman with the exact same perfume, at the same tiny Italian restaurant Liam had raved about, a knot tightened in her stomach.

Her gaze darted to the menu, though she'd already memorized it. This woman, with her cascading auburn hair and the way she fiddled with her wine glass, was mirroring her exact movements. A chill ran down her spine.

"He told me this place was his favorite," the woman said, her voice soft. The words hit her like a blow. It was the same thing Liam had said to her, word for word, only a week ago.

She felt a sudden urge to flee, to disappear into the bustling street outside. Instead, she took a shaky breath and asked, "How long have you been seeing him?"