Gemotions

"So... that's it then?" Mark asked, his voice barely a whisper. He stared blankly at the map spread out on the table, a colorful tangle of highways and states. He felt a strange disconnection, as if he were observing a play about his life. The room seemed cold, despite the late afternoon sun streaming through the window.

He pushed his chair back from the table, the scrape of the legs against the hardwood floor loud in the suddenly silent room. He couldn’t seem to meet Liam's gaze. His mind raced, replaying every shared memory: late-night talks, epic road trips, shared dreams. All of it now felt… tainted.

He abruptly stood up and began to pace the room. "When exactly? When are you…" He couldn't finish the sentence, a lump forming in his throat. His chest felt constricted, as if an invisible band were tightening around it. He needed air.