Gemotions

The photograph, tucked away in the back of my desk drawer, felt heavy in my hand. It was a picture of us, taken on our first camping trip, grinning, sunburned, and inseparable. I stared at the image, remembering the promises we’d made, the dreams we’d shared.

Now, he was in Chicago, and I… well, I was still here. He hadn't sent me a photo from his new life, just the usual group text. We're "still besties", or something, and he's "loving it." The phrase tasted like ash.

I slammed the drawer shut, the sudden noise echoing in the quiet office. The photograph felt like a betrayal. His betrayal, and possibly my own, for ever believing such a relationship could last.