Gemotions

"Another one, dear?" The bartender's voice, thick with boredom, cut through the din. Ethan just shook his head, staring into the amber liquid in his glass. He'd been nursing it for an hour, the ice melting slowly. He'd seen Ben at the pub, a place they’d frequented as kids.

He'd approached, heart thumping, a carefully rehearsed greeting on his lips. Ben had looked up, his eyes meeting Ethan’s for a fleeting moment before sliding away, the polite smile of a stranger replacing the familiar warmth.

Ethan felt a strange constriction in his throat, a desire to yell and rage, to shake Ben until the memories came flooding back. He took a long, bitter swallow of his drink, the taste doing nothing to ease the ache in his heart.