Gemotions

The chipped paint on the diner booth mirrored the cracks forming in Henry's composure. He stirred his coffee, watching the sugar swirl aimlessly. The bills were piling up, the car needed repairs, and his landlord was already threatening eviction. He could feel his heart hammering against his ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the silence.

A woman approached, her smile uncertain. "Henry?"

He looked up, his jaw clenched. “Yes?” he managed to say.

“I’m… Isabelle. We were supposed to go to the concert with… Thomas?” Her voice quivered with a mixture of confusion and disappointment. Thomas, the man who’d borrowed money from him, the man who had stopped answering his phone.