Gemotions

The park, bathed in the golden hues of sunset, was supposed to be romantic. David shifted on the park bench, the rough wood digging into him. He’d been looking forward to the picnic, but a knot of apprehension had tightened in his chest all day. He picked at a loose thread on his jeans.

He saw her approaching, a vision in a flowing sundress, a picnic basket swinging from her arm. Relief flooded him, but it was fleeting. Standing slightly behind her, a man with a familiar grin was also approaching. He had the same basket.

His breath caught. He stared, frozen, as the other man called out, “Hey, honey! Sorry I’m late.”

David felt a coldness creep into his bones, a feeling that numbed his senses. He slowly stood up, every movement stiff and awkward. The picnic felt like a cruel joke.