Gemotions

He ran a hand through his hair, a nervous gesture he hadn’t used in years. David. The venture capitalist. Always impeccably dressed, always on the phone, always talking about deals and acquisitions. A wave of unease washed over him, a cold prickling on his skin. They’d shared so much, their successes, their failures, their hopes.

I leaned back in the creaking wooden chair, the wood digging slightly into my back. Now I knew it was all a scam, all a charade. He imagined his carefully crafted life, a house of cards. How could he have known?

The silence in the dimly lit cafe was deafening. He felt a burning in his chest.