Gemotions

He ran a hand through his hair, a gesture he’d repeated a dozen times since leaving his apartment. The walk felt longer than usual, each step amplified by the expectation. He’d meticulously planned everything: the cafe, the time, the conversation starters. But now, as he stood outside the door, the carefully constructed plan felt flimsy.

A knot tightened in his gut. The aroma of pastries did little to soothe him. Inside, he spotted a woman with fiery red hair, the same vibrant color he had admired in her profile picture. He knew it was her. When he walked over, the muscles in his legs felt stiff, as if they were holding him back. He felt a sudden, inexplicable need to leave, but he forced himself forward.

“Sarah?” he managed, the word escaping on a shaky breath.