Gemotions

He sat across from her, the cheap diner coffee tasting like ash in her mouth. Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the silence. It had been years of friendship, of shared laughter, of trust. Now, she felt a profound sense of unease, a cold dread creeping into her bones.

David had always spoken of late nights at the hospital, of life-or-death decisions. He had the doctor's name tag and everything. The realization that he wasn't a doctor, wasn't anything close to what he’d pretended to be, felt like the ground had vanished beneath her feet.

"So," he said, pushing a stray strand of hair from his forehead. His smile, usually so warm, now seemed brittle, forced. She couldn’t meet his gaze. She could feel the blood drain from her face.