Gemotions

The train rattled and swayed, a metallic cage mirroring the turmoil in Amelia’s chest. The air was thick, heavy with the scent of stale coffee and desperation. She pressed her forehead against the cool glass, watching the blurry landscape whiz past. The wedding dress was still at the dry cleaners. Her boss had just told her he was not pleased with her performance. And now, this train was late, of course.

A man sat down across from her, his expression a mirror of her own unease. He ran a hand through his hair, a gesture Amelia recognised. "Are you… Amelia?" he asked, his voice strained.

"Yes," she replied, her voice barely a whisper. She looked at him with an intensity that surprised even herself.

"I’m… Daniel. I, um, was supposed to meet… Clara for brunch, but…” He paused, searching for words. Clara, the woman who'd been sending her cryptic texts, cancelling their plans at the last minute. The woman who’d claimed she was “busy.”