Gemotions

The silence in the art gallery was thick, suffocating. Clara found herself staring at the painting, a vibrant landscape she and Ben had once imagined together. She'd driven hours to see his exhibition, her heart pounding with a mixture of hope and anxiety. He was a famous artist now.

He didn't recognize her.

She had expected excitement, the re-emergence of a shared understanding. Instead, his polite inquiry about her background felt like a betrayal. He’d studied the painting, not recognizing the shared creation. She should leave.

Her hands clenched into fists, fingernails digging into her palms. She felt a burning need to disappear. She turned abruptly, bumping into a sculpture, her face flushed with a rush of heat. She escaped the gallery, leaving the echo of her own footsteps behind.