Gemotions

He watched as his friend approached the table, his smile wide and disarming. It took every ounce of his willpower not to bolt. He had the receipts, the bank statements, the evidence that his friend's supposed business was a phantom creation. The entire business was a front.

The restaurant was too bright, too crowded. The clatter of cutlery and the murmur of conversations grated on his nerves. He felt a cold sweat prickling his skin.

He forced himself to meet his friend’s gaze, to feign a smile. He knew the confrontation was inevitable, and the thought made him feel fragile, vulnerable. The world seemed to shrink around him.