Gemotions

The fluorescent lights of the bar hummed, amplifying the unsettling tension that crackled between Chloe and Mark. She clutched her glass, the ice clinking against the glass as she twisted it. He'd always talked about the demanding hours and high stakes of his "financial advising" job. Now, here he was, revealed as a lowly, albeit charming, busboy. Her heart hammered against her ribs.

His excuse – a “temporary” situation – felt flimsy, and she found herself wanting to retreat into herself. She was the one who had always put herself out there, the one who bore her heart on her sleeve.

"So," she began, the words catching in her throat, "All those late nights... were spent... bussing tables?" The question hung in the air, heavy with unspoken accusations. A tear, unbidden, traced a path down her cheek. She didn’t understand why his words affected her so much.