Gemotions

"I just… I didn't know," she whispered, her voice barely above a breath. The opulent library felt stifling, the hushed tones of other patrons grating on her nerves. She'd made a mistake, a big one. It felt like she would never get over this.

A pressed flower, still retaining a hint of its faded color, fell from the book along with a small, brittle note. An expression of affection. Of love. Of all the things she had destroyed. She remembered her own words. They rang within her head.

The silence of the room was a deafening indictment. She wished she could disappear. She felt very small.