Gemotions

The coffee cup trembled in Leo’s hand, sloshing lukewarm liquid over the rim. He’d been trying to avoid this conversation all morning. Melissa, his team lead, was reminiscing about her childhood. Her words, innocent enough, hit Leo like physical blows. "Remember Camp Willow Creek?"

Leo’s throat closed. The words seemed to stick, making it difficult to breathe. The office felt suddenly too small, too confining. He saw the way she looked at him, and could feel the way her eyes seemed to search his face, to find something.

He busied himself with wiping the spilled coffee, unable to meet her gaze. He had to say something, anything, to change the subject. But his tongue felt thick and heavy in his mouth. He could only manage a strangled, “Yes.”