Gemotions

Her breath hitched in her throat as she waited in the cafe. The bell above the door chimed, and she jumped, spilling a little of her lukewarm latte. Across the table, Liam was hunched, his usual jovial face replaced with a tight mask of composure. The interview had been last week.

She couldn’t meet his gaze, instead focusing on the swirling pattern in her coffee. The silence was deafening. Every other sound – the clatter of plates, the barista’s call for a cappuccino – felt amplified, distorted. She picked at the frayed edge of her napkin, feeling a frantic energy bubbling within her.

He cleared his throat. "Well," he began, his voice barely a whisper. She flinched, bracing herself. Everything she had worked for was riding on this.