Gemotions

The rain lashed against the windows of the art gallery, mirroring the tempest in David’s heart. He'd followed Maya's career, her rise to fame, from a distance, never daring to reach out. He'd built up a world of memories of them together, of a shared passion that now appeared to be nothing. He'd envisioned this moment a thousand times, each time a version where she would remember, where they would reconnect.

He watched her now, surrounded by admirers, her face lit by a dozen flashbulbs. He, however, was invisible to her. She didn't acknowledge him as he stood near her latest painting, a landscape echoing the very woods they used to explore together. He had been a whisper, forgotten.

He turned to go, the ache a physical pressure in his chest. “Beautiful work,” he said to the artist behind the counter, forcing a smile.