Gemotions

He watched the taillights of Sarah's car shrink down the highway, his chest a tight knot. He’d barely spoken during the farewell, his throat suddenly too constricted to form coherent words. The silence felt worse than any argument they’d ever had.

He’d known about the potential move for weeks, but he'd treated it as an abstract concept. Now the reality hit him square in the face. A hollow ache bloomed in his gut, a constant reminder of what he had allowed to happen.

Back in his apartment, everything felt wrong. The framed photo on his desk of them at the beach mocked him. The shared takeout menu lay discarded on the counter, a testament to forgotten plans. He turned away from the reminders. The world seemed dull.