Gemotions

"They've called it off, Mom." Mark’s voice was gentle, filled with a sympathy that only intensified the ache in her chest. All the little trinkets and decorations she had started buying, all the hopeful smiles she imagined. Gone.

She closed her eyes, picturing the faces of her friends, their laughter, the hugs she anticipated. The thought caused a knot to form in her throat. She had been clinging to this little burst of joy, this celebration of life, for weeks.

Now, she stood at the kitchen window, watching the rain streak down the glass, blurring the world outside. The world was gray, mirroring how she felt. The air in the kitchen suddenly felt too thick, too heavy. She sighed, a long, drawn-out sound that seemed to carry all the years of her life.