Gemotions

The small, cozy bookstore felt oppressive. Emily had been waiting for an hour, and her patience had worn thin. She flipped through a magazine, her movements jerky and erratic. She felt a growing sense of frustration, and she took deep breaths, trying to find some semblance of calm. She’d planned this date for weeks, and the thought of being stood up was almost unbearable.

Then, there he was, striding through the door, apologizing for the delay. But as he approached, another woman rose from a nearby table, her face contorted in anger. "James? What is going on?" she demanded. Emily felt her pulse quicken. The blood rushed in her ears. She felt a sudden urge to flee.